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COMMEMORATIVE    POEMS 


DAVID     N.     JOHNSON 


^•B. 


LYNN,    MASS. 

The  Nichols  Press  —  Thos.   P.   Nichols 

1893 


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Copyright,  i8q2. 
By  DAVID  N,  JOHNSON.  Lynn,  Mass. 


PRINTED   BY   THOS.    P.    NICHOLS,    LYNN,   MASS. 


In  Memory  of 

AND   TO   THE 

I   Dedicate   this   little   Volume, 

AS  THE  MOST   PRECIOUS  LEGACY 

IT    IS    IN    MY    POWER 

TO   BESTOW. 


ivil91961 


PREFACE. 


A  PREFACE  should  contain  what  the  readers  of  the  book  thus  an- 
nounced, ought  to  know,  concerning  the  purpose  of  the  author. 
This  preface  is  written  with  this  end  in  view.  The  contents  of 
this  volume  were  prepared,  for  the  most  part,  for  various  com- 
memorative occasions,  observed  in  our  city  through  a  period  of 
nearly  forty  years. 

The  several  organizations  thus  represented  constitute  a  large 
factor  in  a  community  among  whom  the  author  has  lived  almost 
from  infancy.  This  work,  therefore,  has  an  interest  to  the  people  of 
Lynn,  and  a  local  character  peculiar  to  itself,  representing  a  certain 
phase  of  the  literature  of  our  community.  It  is  proper  to  add, 
that  the  writer  of  these  lines  had  no  intention  of  giving  them  this 
more  permanent  form  until  he  had  received  assurance,  from  those 
best  qualified  to  judge,  that  it  would  be  a  welcome  addition  to 
whatever  the  archives  of  our  city  contain  of  the  literary  productions 
of  its  citizens. 

Of  the  quality  of  this  work  he  cannot,  of  course,  speak.  He 
may  be  permitted  to  say,  however,  that  he  has  no  idle  and  false 
pretense  to  offer  as  an  apology  for  his  performance.     He  has  no 

(V) 


vi  PREFACE. 

intention,  therefore,  of  saying  to  his  readers  — who  are  largely  his 
friends  and  acquaintances  —  that  these  lines  were  the  hasty  produc- 
tion of  a  few  precious  hours  now  and  then  snatched  from  the 
exacting  demands  of  a  laborious  profession ;  for  this  would  not  be 
true.  Whatever  the  degree  of  merit  that  belongs  to  this  work,  or 
to  anything  he  has  written,  whether  in  prose  or  verse,  the  writer 
has  done  his  best,  or  as  nearly  so  as  circumstances  permitted; 
and  he  would  have  done  better  if  he  had  possessed  higher  en- 
dowments and  a  wider  culture. 

The  few  German  translations,  made  many  years  ago,  will  not, 
it  is  hoped,  lessen  the  value  of  this  collection ;  and  the  few  pieces 
not  strictly  commemorative  in  their  character,  or  those  commem- 
orative only  of  personal  qualities,  rather  than  of  public  events, 
will  hardly  be  regarded  as  an  irrelevant  addition. 

It  is  not,  then,  with  indifference,  that  the  author  commits  this 
little  venture  to  the  waves  of  time.  If,  on  its  way  to  the  oblivion 
that  sooner  or  later  is  the  destiny  of  all  perishable  things,  it  shall 
linger  a  little  while  among  the  "Enchanted  Islands"  of  popular 
favor  before  it  reaches  the  Lethean  lake,  his  highest  expectations 
will  be  realized. 

D.  N.  J. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

High  Rock.    Written  in  Youth 1 

High  Rock.    Fifty  Years  Later 2 

Welcome  to  Kossuth 26 

The  Dying  Year 29 

To  Eighteen  Hundred  Fifty-Two 32 

Jack  Frost's  Address 35 

Lines  Suggested  by  the  Name  — "Our  Oracle" 38 

The   March   of  Freedom.      Read  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Young 

Men's  Debating  Society,  1856 42 

Spring 54 

A  Funeral  Thought.    By  Bayard  Taylor 56 

Lines  Suggested  on  Reading  "A  Funeral  Thought  " 59 

The  Playgrounds  of  My  Childhood  Days 61 

On  the  Death  of  Alonzo  Lewis,  January,  1861 63 

Childhood.    Read  before  a  Literary  Circle ,   .  65 

Lines  Suggested  by  the  Death  of  M.  H.  A 67 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Elbridge  G.  Brooks,  1850  ...  70 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Sumner  Ellis,  1860 72 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Charles  W.  Biddle,  1863  ...  74 
Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Re-dedication  of  the  First  Universalist  Church,  Union 

Street,  1864 76 

On  the  Death  of  Col.  Ellsworth.  1861 78 

To  THE  Memory  of  E.  A.  R 80 

The  Proclamation  of  Emancipation,  1863 83 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Obsequies  of  President  Lincoln,  at  First  Universa- 
list Church,  1865 85 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Laying  of  the  Corner-Stone  of  the  First  Universalist 

Church,   May  27,  1872 87 

(vii) 


viii  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

«  PAGE 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Ingalls  School-House,  1872  ...  89 

Memorial  Ode.    For  Decoration  Day,  1875 91 

A  Pastor's  Welcome  Home.    J^ev.  C.   IV.  Biddle,  1878 93 

Ode.    Sung  at  the  250th  Anniversary  of  the  Settlement  of  Lynn,  1879  .  95 
Lines.    Read  at  a  Concert  of  the  First  Universalist  Sunday  School,  1878, 

Swampscott  Branch 96 

Dedicatory  Hymn.    First  Universalist  Church,  Nahant  Street,  1873   .  102 

Skating  by  Moonlight 104 

Poem.    Read  at  the  Reunion  of  the  Young  Men's  Debating  Society,  1881. 

—  A  Retrospect 109 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Semi-Centennial  Services  of  the  First  Universalist 

Society,  Lynn,  April  29,  1883 115 

Lines.    Read  at  the  Seventieth  Anniversary  of  John  W.  Hutchinson    .  117 
Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Laying  of  the  Corner-Stone  of  the  High  School- 
House,  October,  1890 124 

A  Reminiscence.    Read  at  the  Reunion  of  the  Young  Men's  Debating 

Society,  1891 126 

In  Memoriam.    Cyrris  M.   Tracy,  Septerhber,  1891     132 

Lines.    Read  at  the  Forty-first  Anniversary  of  the  Exploring  Circle,  1891  137 
New  Light  to  Man  is  Come.    Sung  at  a  Special  Service  held  January, 

1892 147 

Hymn.    Sung  at  the  Dedication  of  the  High  School-House,  June  17, 1892  .  149 

Mount  Gilead.    The  Planting  of  Memorial  Trees 152 

A  Harvest  Hymn.    For  Columbian  Year,  1892 157 

In  Memoriam.    John  T.  Moulton,  October,  1892 163 

Columbian  Sonnet 166 

John  G.  Whittier 167 

Tennyson 171 

translations   from   the  GERMAN. 

The  Minstrel's  Curse.    From  the  German  of  Uhland 172 

The  Division  of  the  Earth.    From  the  German  of  Schiller    ....  177 

Little  Anna.    From  the  German  of  Rosalie  Koch 180 

The  Midnight  Walk.     From  the  German  of  Herwegh 184 

The  Wise  Man  and  the  Fool.    From  the  German  of  Nicolai   ....  188 

Laura  at  Prayer.    From  the  German  of  Matthesson 190 

Notes 193 


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(Written  in  Youth.) 


I  love  to  stand  upon  thy  brow, 
When  all  around  is  hushed  to  sleep; 

When  not  a  voice  nor  sound  is  heard, 
Save  the  low  murmur  of  the  deep. 

When  stars  with  radiant  beauty  shine. 
And  moonbeams  shed  their  silvery  light; 

While  ocean  sparkles  in  the  rays, 
Reflected  by  the  queen  of  night. 


When  golden  clouds  lie  in  the  west. 
At  close  of  day,  at  brink  of  even. 

Lifting  on  high  their  tow'ring  heads. 
O'er  half  the  canopy  of  heaven. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


No  pencil  could  the  beauties  trace, 
Though  guided  by  a  master's  hand ; 

Nor  painter  paint  the  gorgeous  scene, 
Which  far  outvies  the  fairy  land. 

(Fifty  years  later.) 


Long  years  have  passed  since  first  I  stood 
A  boy  upon  thy  rugged  brow ; 

rd  paint  the  picture,  if  I  could. 
As  it  was  then  —  and  now. 


The  gentle  murmur  of  the  waves 
Falls  on  my  ear  to-day,  as  then; 

The  roaring  when  the  tempest  raves, 
Then  heard  —  I  hear  again. 


f 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOE  MS. 


Nahant  then  lay,  as  now — a  gem, 
Enshrined  along  the  gleaming  shore 

The  same  transcendent  diadem, 
That  day  —  as  now  —  she  wore. 


I  heard  her  craggy  sentinels, 

Their  sun-burnt  faces  dashed  with  foam, 
Repeat  the  story  freedom  tells, 

"  Thus  guard  your  hearth  and  home." 


I  saw  the  onset,  heard  the  shock. 
As  they  hurled  back  the  surging  blow. 

While  answering  thunder  seemed  to  mock 
The  fury  of  the  foe. 


Gray  battlements  of  ages  past. 
Emblem  of  justice  pillared  deep. 

In  earth's  foundations  that  shall  last 
While  time  his  records  keep, — 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


How  flashed  your  bastions  as  the  sun 
Lit  up  the  spray  —  the  battle  o'er  — 

Your  banners  gay  with  victory  won, 
Waving-  from  shore  to  shore. 


And  then  another  rapt'rous  scene; 

What  panoramic  splendors  lay 
As  wood  and  wave  and  air  serene, 

Pictured  that  summer  day. 

Morn's  heralds  were  the  tinted  clouds. 
Whose  gorgeous  drapery  decked  the  skies, 

That  flitting  like  e'er-changing  shrouds, 
Gave  glimpse  of  Paradise. 


The  crimson  sun  ascending  slow. 
On  fiery  column  seemed  to  rest, 

A  pillared  flame  — fronj  far  below, 
it  reached  the  ocean's  crest. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Far  out  to  sea  the  fisher's  boat, 
Rocked  on  the  gently  swelling  wave, 

Far  up  in  air  the  sea-bird's  note, 
Its  pleasing  discord  gave. 


But  what  comes  here,  this  Gorgon  dire. 
That  says  unto  the  waves  "Turn  back!" 

That  belches  clouds  of  smoke  and  fire, 
And  thunders,  "  Clear  the  track ! " 


And  to  the  billows  mounting  high, 
And  to  the  tempest  seems  to  say, — 

"  Still  toss  the  little  boat,  but  I 
O'er  winds  and  tides  bear  sway. 


"  Ye  cannot  gulf  me  in  the  deep 

Of  angry  waters  raving  wild; 
Whirlwinds  may  make  your  white  caps  leap 

As  wave  on  wave  is  piled. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


"  I  scorn  your  strength  to  toss  at  will 
The  iron -ribbed  monster  man  has  made 

The  noblest  product  of  his  skill, 
Since  the  first  keel  was  laid." 


And  landward  still  another  scene: 
The  humble  weather-stained  abodes 

Lay,  nestling,  scattered  o'er  the  green. 
Where  now  are  leveled  roads. 


And  here  and  there  the  curling  smoke,  ^ 
Bears  odorous  incense  on  the  breeze ; 

And  now  is  heard  the  hammer's  stroke, 
From  shop  half  hid  by  trees. 


The  little  twelve-foot  structure  where 
The  sons  of  Crispin  earned  their  bread, 

And  sang  their  songs  and  plied  with  care 
The  awl  and  waxen  thread. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


Where  might  be  seen  the  gossip's  chair, 
Where  sat  and  dozed  the  veteran  sire, 

Who  'd  carried  in  his  last-made  "■  pair," 
Built  his  last  morning  fire. 

The  memories  of  that  olden  time! 

The  pictured  walls  once  more  I  see; 
And  hear  the  song  with  limping  rhyme, 

As  sung  by  Uncle  D. 


For  many  a  waggish  crew  was  found, 
Beneath  that  little  narrow  roof; 

That  many  a  witty  joke  went  round, 
We  still  have  living  proof. 


And  as  he  hammered  out  his  shoe, 
From  open  windows  there  would  float 

Old  songs  with  chorus  from  the  ''crew," 
Not  often  sung  by  note. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


And  SO  the  hammer's  stroke  and  song, 
And  merry  laughter  mingled  free; 

As  some  sang  right  and  more  sang  wrong 
'  T  was  hardly  harmony. 


Each  sang  the  tune  which  he  liked  best, 
(Though  he'd  not  learned  to  sing  at  all,) 

His  strength  of  lungs  the  only  test. 
Or  mirth  provoking  drawl. 


The  old  fugue  tunes  were  common  then, 
And  some  who  sang  them  ''went  it  blind;" 

Then  one  with  vocal  powers  of  ten 
Roared  grandly  in  behind. 


For  he  was  great  upon  a  "slur," 
And  as  the  stragglers  found  their  place, 

A  shout  that  made  the  rafters  stir. 
Ended  the  vocal  race. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOE  MS. 


There  sons  and  sires  sat  side  by  side, 
Shared  the  same  candle's  glimm'ring  light, 

Talked  of  the  storm  and  rising  tide, 
Or  of  old  Concord's  fight. 

Sometimes  a  song  from  Freedom's  lyre. 
Soft  echoes    woke  in  evening's  calm; 

Or  reverent  youth  and  aged  sire 
Sang  the  same  sacred  psalm. 


"On  Jordan's  stormy  banks  I  stand," 
Oft  struck  the  stranger's  list'ning  ear, 
Or  some  grand  hymn  of  father-land, 
Adoring  hearts  held  dear. 


Now,  ''  Home,  sweet  home "  the  lay  would  be, 
Whose  strains  to  every  land  belong; 

Or  swelled  "  My  Country,  't  is  of  thee," 
The  patriot's  deathless  song. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Sometimes  the  prattling  child  stood  near, 
And  made  sad  work  with  papa's  "  kit," 

Or  pulled  its  father's  down -bent  ear, 
And  chuckled  o'er  its  wit. 


''Ah,  this  won't  do,  you  little — witch. 

You've  lost  my  'tacks'  among  the  'scraps;' 
You  '11  learn  full  soon  to  '  sew  and  stitch,' 
Perhaps,  bind  Benny's  'slaps,' 


"Come,  Benny,  take  the  darling  home, 
Your  mother  's  got  her  washing  done ; 
(Do  n't  she  look  '  cute '  in  that  shell  comb  ? 
That 's  just  her  mother's  fun.) 


Tell  mother  if  she's  bound  that  shoe. 
To  send  it  over  right  away; 

Some  time  this  afternoon  won't  do, — 
And  now  don't  stop  and  play. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


''  See  Dick !  there  comes  the  man  you  owe, 
Get  up  in  the  shop  chamber,  quick ! 
We  'II  tell  him  you  Ve  been  on  a  '  blow 
And  then  up  mounted  Dick. 


Does  Richard  J.  work  here?"  ''He  did. 
But  he's  gone  fishing  up  the  Straits; 

You  '11  have  hard  work  to  catch  that  '  kid 
I  guess  I  '11  see  Squire  Gates. 


''  Come,  Dick,  go  gti  a  quart  of  '  New,' 
I  guess  we've  fixed  this  matter  up; 
Don't  stop  to  hammer  out  that  shoe. 
And  bring  some  sort  of  cup." 


The  dear  old  shops  beside  the  hill, 
A  thousand  old-time  scenes  recall; 

I  seem  to  hear  their  voices  still, 
Their  far-oflf  echoes  fall. 


12  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


The  shops  where  toiled  the  veteran  sires, 
A  few  sad  relics  now  remain ; 

And  now  round  memory's  altar  fires, 
Unheard,  a  low  refrain, 


The  spirit  sings  of  days  gone  by ; 

Of  youth  that  comes  not  back,  nor  joys 
That  in  time's  urn  with  many  a  sigh. 

The  old  count  o'er  their  toys. 


But  youth  mourns  not  for  joys  unknown. 
Nor  scenes  that  never  blessed  their  sight 

No  requiem  sung  for  pleasures  flown, 
Darkens  their  morning  light. 


And  so  the  sons  with  faces  set 

Eastward,  shall  hail  the  coming  day; 

With  life's  new  wine  their  lips  are  wet. 
They  dance  life's  roundelay. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  13 


But  northward  what  are  these  that  rise, 
Brick  structures  that  o'er-top  the  few 

Old  dwelHngs  hidden  from  our  eyes? 
A  picture  —  old  and  new. 


Their  smoking  chimneys  tower  on  high, 
And  the  fierce  fires  that  burn  within, 

Make  million  wheels  unwearied  fly, 
Amid  unceasing  din. 


They  sew  and  stitch  with  waxen  thread ; 

They  cut  the  soles,  and  pond'rous  weights 
The  hammer's  stroke  supply  instead, 

And  ply  like  ancient  Fates. 


They  pare  the  edge  and  gloss  the  heel, 
Drive  pegs  and  nails  with  single  stroke, 

And  all  this  multitude  of  wheels 
Seem  touched  with  fire  and  smoke. 


14  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


And  one  by  one  the  old  give  way 
To  costly  block  or  mansion  fine ; 

And  squares  where  children  stopped  to  play, 
Now  see  a  lengthening  line, 


Where  eager  men  and  women  crowd, 
Through  what  was  once  the  narrow  lane, 

Where  traffic's  din  becomes  more  loud. 
More  fierce  the  strife  for  gain. 


From  factory  and  from  shop  they  throng, 
At  stroke  of  bell  or  whistle's  scream, 

And  street  cars  crowded  roll  along, 
The  poor  man's  coach  and  team. 


But  what  is  this  that  skirts  the  shore, 
And  cuts  in  twain  the  Eastern  hills,^ 

That  flies  the  iron  pathway  o'er. 
And  man  with  wonder  fills? 


COMMEMORATIl/E  TOEMS.  15 


Like  fiery  dragon  rushing  on, 

Its  nostrils  snorting  sparks  and  smoke ; 
While  wreathed  the  brow  of  Stephenson 

With  laurel  and  the  oak. 


Through  weary  years  he  toiled  to  show, 
The  high-born  of  his  native  land ; 

The  latent  power  in  earth  below, 
Waiting  the  high  command, 


That  knowledge  utters  to  mankind  — 
"  Harness  the  winds  that  for  you  wait 

Unchain  the  elements,  and  find 
The  key  that  unlocks  fate ! " 


And  lo!  a  greater  wonder  far^ 

Than  that  which  drives  the  fiery  steeds; 
The  flash  that  flies  from  star  to  star, 

Now  serves  creation's  needs. 


i6  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Wonder  of  wonders!  who  shall  tell 
The  marvels  of  the  present  age  ? 

What  poet  weave  the  storied  spell 
That  e'en  the  mighty  sage, 


Great  Franklin  when  he  wooed  the  clouds, 
And  recked  not  of  tlie  danger  fraught, 

Dreamed  not  the  mystery  that  shrouds 
The  messenger  he  sought. 


His  paper  kite  and  silken  string 
Were  harbingers,  whose  message  bore 

More  than  the  bolt  with  dreaded  wing. 
Whose  deadly  shaft  forebore 


To  touch  the  life  of  him  who  dared, 
At  Nature's  altar  risk  his  fate  — 

While  cynics  sneered  and  folly  stared, 
As  Science  oped  her  gate. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  17 


Near  thirty  years  the  street-cars  drawn 
By  steeds,  man's  servant  from  the  time 

When  Hebrew  sage  in  Time's  gray  dawn 
In  imagery  sublime 


Set  forth  his  noble  attributes;  — 
Now  the  electric  current  bears 

Them  swifter  on,  while  lightning  shoots 
Beneath,  and  fiercely  glares. 


And  near  at  hand  the  time  when  man 
Shall  use  the  steeds  of  air,  and  say 

To  the  winged  lightning:  "Take  the  van!" 
To  the  iron  steeds :  ''  Give  way ! " 


And  so  ere  long  the  loaded  train, 
With  locomotive's  thundering  roar, 

Shall  fly  as  eagle  sweeps  the  main, 
Bound  for  the  distant  shore. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


Favored  of  Fortune,  lovely  Lynn, 
Girt  with  her  gem -emblazoned  shore, 

Whose  murmur  soothes  the  city's  din. 
We  prize  thee  more  and  more. 


Thy  forest  hills  in  summer's  calm^ 
Send  their  soft  notes  on  zephyrs'  wings ; 

And  every  breeze  swells  Nature's  psalm. 
And  every  bird  that  sings. 


And  standing  near  thee,  Ancient  Rock, 
How  vast  the  volume  of  thy  lore ! 

How  dost  thy  age-crowned  grandeur  mock 
The  baubles  men  count  o'er. 


Old  when  the  pyramids  were  young, 
Co-equal  with  the  morning  star; 

Thou  heard'st  Creation's  anthem  sung, 
Since  rolled  earth's  circling  car. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  19 


Primeval  Rock,  thy  eyes  have  seen 
The  wonders  Nature  has  revealed ; 

To  him  who  reads  the  lines  between 
Her  pages  are  unsealed. 

A  thousand  times  ten  thousand  years, 
Since  Chaos  heard  the  voice  of  Him 

Who  leads  through  scenes  of  hope  and  fears 
The  world  by  pathways  dim  — 


What  empires  rose  and  flourished,  fell ; 

Chieftains  in  war  and  kings  in  peace, 
Of  these  old  hieroglyphics  tell, 

And  will,  till  time  shall  cease. 


But  thou  a  nearer  look  bent  down 
Upon  the  child  beneath  thy  feet; 

Thine  own  beloved  Lynn  the  crown, 
That  makes  thy  reign  complete. 


±o  COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


Her  other  jewels  round  thee  lie, 
Dear  as  before  they  left  the  home ; 

Lynnfield  and  Saugus  still  are  nigh, 
And  near  the  ocean's  foam, 


Nahant  and  Swampscott  see  thy  form,. 

And  their  brave  sons  their  mother  greet, 
And  see,  through  mists  and  gathering  storm, 

Thee  on  thy  queenly  seat. 


The  grandeur  of  thy  lofty  view. 
What  scores  the  endless  joy  have  felt 

As  Nature  changed  the  old  to  new, 
And  at  her  altar  knelt. 


What  notes  rang  forth  in  summer  air. 
When  the  famed  ''Tribe  of  Jesse"  stood^ 

On  thy  calm  heights,  while  gathered  there 
The  thronging  multitude. 


COMMEMOR/iTiyE   TOEMS. 


Within  these  fifty  years  thine  eye 
Hath  seen  the  youth  and  maidens  fair 

Climb  the  Old  Hill,  with  many  a  sigh, 
For  Learning's  fane  was  there. 


And  long  since  to  the  fathers  spoke 
Old  Freedom,  "  Here  like  yonder  Rock, 

My  bulwarks  stand  to  ward  the  stroke 
Of  despot's  battle  shock. 


"  Here  like  Rome's  matron  I  count  o'er 
My  jewels,  —  Lynn  a  casket  build 
Fit  to  enshrine  treasures  far  more 
Than  fabled  genii  willed. 


'And  see  before  thee  stands  a  pile 
That  shall  outlast  the  pyramid 

Old  Egypt  built  near  older  Nile, 
By  slaves  at  tyrants'  bid." 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


Couldst  thou  but  break,  O  Ancient  Rock, 
Thy  sphinx-like  silence,  and  couldst  tell 

The  terror  and  the  palsying  shock 
As  struck  the  alarum  bell,' 


On  that  November  day.     Thine  eyes 
Beheld  our  ancient  heritage 

Ascend  a  flaming  sacrifice, — 
Our  history's  saddest  page. 


We  heard  Despair  exclaim  —  "Behold! 

See  the  slow -gathered  fruit  of  years, 
Like  Sodom's  apples,  seeming  gold. 

Drop  ashes  'mid  our  tears." 


But  Hope  sang  still  her  cheering  strain 
"  Lynn  from  her  dust  shall  yet  arise ; ' 
And  soon  was  heard  the  glad  refrain : 
'*  Her  courage  never  dies." 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  23 


And  soon  the  stately  piles  arose ; 

New  avenues  in  lengthening  lines 
Told  our  young  men  that  Fortune  flows 

To  them  who  trust  her  signs. 


Long  years,  Old  Rock,  since  first  I  gazed. 
And  saw  the  sun,  a  ball  of  fire. 

Rise  up ;  and  while  the  ocean  blazed, 
His  chariot  mounted  higher. 


Short  years,  though  nearly  three  score  rounds 
Have  rolled  since  first  the  silver  chime 

Of  life's  sweet  bells,  their  dulcet  sounds 
Seemed  ringing  all  the  time. 


And  yet  not  all;  a  minor  strain 
The  mem'ries  of  those  days  recall, 

A  low,  sad  monotone  of  pain 
I  hear  —  the  spirit's  thrall. 


24  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


For  childhood's  sunny  days  are  hued 
With  griefs  that  childhood  only  knows; 

Whose  hearts  are  chilled  by  accents  rude 
That  blight  their  summer  rose. 


Long  years!   when  through  the  checkered  scenes, 

The  curtain  of  the  past  unrolls, 
As  step  by  step  we  learn  what  means 

The  call  to  human  souls. 


Remorseless  Time !  thy  ruthless  hand 
Has  changed  the  vale  and  mountain  top; 

The  dear  old  homes  no  longer  stand, 
Nor  Crispin's  cosy  shop. 


But  though  the  ocean  rolls  to-day. 
As  it  has  rolled  since  time  began ; 

Though  sunbeams  glimmer  in  the  spray. 
As  seen  by  ancient  man, 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


Another  spirit  haunts  the  air, 

And  whispers  what  the  years  have  taught; 
Life's  mottled  web  of  hope  and  care, 

The  wisdom  that  it  brought. 


The  sea,  the  sky,  the  maple's  flame. 
The  varying  tints  of  light  and  shade. 

And  the  Old  Rock  are  still  the  same, 
As  when  a  boy  I  played 


And  climbed  around  thy  ragged  steep 
That  loomed  a  mountain  in  my  eyes 

Still  memory  shall  forever  keep 
The  rapture  and  surprise. 


Thus  sings  the  Old;  but,  better  still. 
We  sing  the  New  in  loftier  strain; 

The  harvests  of  the  past  fulfil 
The  promise  made  in  pain. 


25 


26  COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


We  drop  the  tear,  we  heave  the  sigh, 
Life's  visions  fade,  the  eye  grows  dim, 

The  ghosts  of  buried  hopes  flit  by  — 
We  sing  our  evening  hymn. 


But  Hope  survives  the  wreck  of  years; 

Her  song  of  cheer  greets  every  clime; 
And  Faith  triumphant  o'er  man's  fears, 

Makes  glad  the  march  of  time. 


agaelcome  to  mossuti)* 


Welcome,  brave  Magyar !  on  whose  brow 
Nature  has  set  her  kingly  seal; 

A  million  hearts  are  beating  now 
With  joy  that  freemen  only  feel. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  27 


For  joy,  that  'neath  our  western  skies 
The  exile  stands,  whose  honored  name 

From  land  to  land  exulting  flies. 
To  kindle  up  crushed  Freedom's  flame. 


The  loud  acclaim  that  greets  thy  ears, 
Shall  shake  old  Europe's  tottering  thrones ; 

Alarmed,  each  trembling  despot  hears, 
And  startles  at  their  thunder  tones. 


And  onward  speeds  the  thrilling  cry, 
That  speaks  the  doom  of  tyrants  all; 

As,  when  Belshazzar's  end  was  nigh. 
He  read  his  sentence  on  the  wall. 


The  Northern  autocrat  may  frown 
Defiance  at  an  outraged  world, 

And  "leagued  oppression"  trample  down 
The  flag  that  Justice  has  unfurled. 


28  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


Yet  know,  brave  leader  of  the  brave, 
That  Truth's  eternal  power  shall  stand; 

Thy  country,  from  her  living  grave, 
Shall  rise  at  Liberty's  command. 

And  round  the  standard  of  the  free 
Her  noble  sons  shall  yet  be  seen, 

As  when  swords  gleamed  in  sympathy. 
Beneath  the  banner  of  their  queen/ 


Statesman  and  patriot!  thee  we  own. 

Latest  of  the  illustrious  line 
That  light  like  stars  the  moral  zone. 

Leading  the  world  to  Freedom's  shrine. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  29 


Ei^t  HBging  ¥ear. 


The  earth  is  wrapped  in  winter's  snowy  shroud, 

Triumphant  conqueror  o'er  the  vanquished  year ; 
The  storm-king  wildly  sings  his  requiem  loud, 

And  Nature  weeps,  sad  mourner  o'er  the  bier. 

And  man,  too,  weeps,  for  dead  and  buried  here 
Lie  blighted  hopes,  and  many  cherished  dreams. 

That  cheered  the  heart,  and  banished  every  fear. 
On  youthful  visions  broke  Hope's  morning  beams, 
Gilding  Fame's  temple  dome,  that  flashed  with  meteor 
gleams. 


Thou  dying  Year!  how  bright  thy  rising  sun 
To  thousands  sailing  o'er  life's  tempting  sea! 

What  tempests  swept  ere  half  thy  race  was  run ! 
Upon  the  waves  what  strife  for  victory, 
Where  strong  Ambition  fought  for  mastery 


30  COMMEMORATiyE  TOE  MS. 


O'er  Fortune's  ills.     Oh,  Year!  the  scene  behold! 

The  shore  is  strewn  with  trophies  brought  to  thee. 
But  now  the  bell  of  time  thy  knell  has  tolled; 
On  history's  blotted  leaf  thy  deeds  are  all  inscrolled. 


And  yet,  alas !  not  all ;  the  darkest  page 

Is  written  only  on  the  human  soul. 
That  sacred  grief  which  words  can  ne'er  assuage. 

The  recording  angel  marks,  and  hides  the  scroll; 

For  hope  would  perish,  did  man  know  the  whole. 
Enough,  insatiate  year,  thy  records  show 

To  weary  millions,  struggling  to  their  goal, 
Of  strife,  and  blood,  and  every  form  of  woe. 
Scourging  the  trembling  world,  and  man,  of  man  the  foe. 


Still  Hope  survives  amid  the  wreck  of  years, 
Though  tyrants  triumph,  and  though  empires  die. 

On  Europe's  soil,  wet  with  her  children's  tears. 
The  waving  fields  invite  the  reapers  nigh. 
Come  to  the  harvest!  is  the  startling  cry 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  31 


That  wakes  an  echo  in  the  soul's  vast  deep; 

And  lo!  to  lead  the  van  a  chief  appears. 
Great  Kossuth !  Heaven -appointed  guard  to  keep 
The  famished  nations'  trust !  with  joy  thy  hand  shall  reap. 


Sad,  fleeting  Year,  though  now  thy  twilight  flings 

A  darker  shadow,  deepening  into  gloom, 
Be  thou  precursor  of  the  day  that  brings 
The  reign  of  Justice,  and  Oppression's  doom, 
When  Truth  divine  man's  pathway  shall  illume. 
To  stand  forever  on  the  roll  of  Time, 
Be  this,  oh,  coming  Year,  upon  thy  tomb: 
''  Here  Liberty  awoke ;  here  Faith  sublime 
Viewed,  as  from  Pisgah's  top,  Freedom's  immortal  clime. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


Eo  JEistteen  J^untrrctr  dFiftg^STtoo. 


The  strong-lunged  tempest  sounds,  oh,  Year !  thy  knell, 
And  sullen  storms  have  quenched  the  funeral  pyre 

Which  Autumn  kindled,  as  the  last  farewell 
Of  summer's  songsters  swept  sad  Nature's  lyre. 


The  pilot  wild -bird  saw  the  trees  on  fire, 

And  to  his  mates  screamed  out  the  warning  cry 

They  saw  the  glories  of  the  woods  expire. 
And  fled  the  ruins,  for  a  southern  sky. 


Rare  are  the  trophies,  mighty  Year,  that  crown 
Thy  conquering  march,  victor  in  every  clime ; 

And  is  Destruction's  work  the  chief  renown 
That  marks  thy  progress  o'er  the  track  of  time? 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  33 


The  shades  of  Ashland  hold  the  wasting  dust 
Of  one  whose  voice  oft  bade  the  nation  pause; 

One  in  whose  counsel  senates  put  their  trust, — 
Whose  memory  liveth  in  his  country's  laws. 


Far  o'er  the  waves,  the  "  Mistress  of  the  Seas," 
In  sackcloth  sitting,  mourns  her  gallant  son ; 

Her  ''  meteor  flag,"  that  flames  in  every  breeze, 
Bows  its  proud  head  in  grief  for  Wellington. 


The  tidings  scarce  had  reached  her  empire's  bounds, 
That  the  stern  hero  slept  the  dreamless  sleep. 

When  once  again  Death's  marshalling  trumpet  sounds, 
And  at  its  summons  startled  millions  weep. 


Webster  is  dead !  the  land  is  wrapped  in  gloom ! 

Peerless  he  stood !  —  who  shall  his  mantle  wear  ? 
A  grief-bowed  nation  bears  him  to  the  tomb. 

And  Faith  and  Hope,  immortal,  linger  there. 


34  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


The  din  of  battle  ceased  where  armies  rushed, 

When  day's  great  king  an  hour  his  throne  resigned ;  * 

Behold!  the  angry  strife  of  party  hushed, 
As  fades  a  star  from  the  vast  dome  of  Mind. 


Is  this  thine  only  boast,  remorseless  Year, 
That  earth's  slain  giants  load  thy  triumph  car  ? 

Does  life-sustaining  hope,  or  withering  fear. 
Inspire  the  heart  as  wanes  thy  long-watched  star  ? 


Though  Freedom's  exiles  vainly  looked  to  thee. 
The  galling  bands  of  tyranny  to  break. 

Hast  thou  not  been  the  nurse  of  Liberty, 
Whose  infant  breathings  keep  the  world  awake? 


The  dread  repose  which  Desolation  brings. 
Is  it  not  "sign  portentous"  of  the  hour 

When  Justice,  missioned  from  the  King  of  kings. 
Shall  crush  Oppression  'neath  her  mighty  power? 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  35 


Just  to  thy  memory  shall  the  record  be. 

It  moves!   it  moves!  brave  Galileo  cried; 
Truth's  orb  rolls  on,  sublime  in  majesty, 

Though  Error's  clouds  awhile  her  glory  hide. 


^•^ 


Jacfe  jFrcist's;  gUsUre^s, 


Jack  Frost  came  along  one  night  in  September, 
And  laid  his  cold  finger  on  herbage  and  flower; 

Said  Jack  —  "I  guess  I  will  make  'em  remember 
The  time  when  I  reigned  in  the  pride  of  my  power. 

''  Ever  since  I  've  been  gone,  my  spies  have  been  busy, 
To  hear  what  was  said,  while  I  wandered  afar; 
What  John  said,  what  Jane  said,  what  said  blue-eyed 
Lizzie, 
Of  rhe,  the  stern  monarch  who  drives  the  frost-car. 


36  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


"  I  packed  up  in  haste,  on  my  journey  departed, 
To  spend  a  few  months  on  a  bit  of  a  'tramp;' 
But  not  one  lone  tear  from  a  single  eye  started, 
And  some  even  called  me  a  cold-hearted  scamp. 

"  And  scarce  had  I  got  out  of  sight,  or  of  hearing. 
Before  every  green  blade  popped  up  its  young  head — 
Too  verdant  to  know  that  on  my  reappearing 
1  'd  kill  every  upstart  that  sprang  from  his  bed. 

'*  For  1  often  return  without  giving  warning, 

'And  the  wheels   of  my  chariot  with  death  strew 
the  plain.' 
And  Sol,  my  old  foe,  getting  up  in  the  morning. 
Is  crimson  with  rage  as  he  looks  on  the  slain. 

"  My  spies  have  informed  me  that  birds  have  been  singing 
Among  the  green  branches,  all,  all  the  day  long ; 
That  forest  and  mountain  and  vale  have  been  ringing 
With  music  ascending  from  Nature's  glad  throng. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  37 


**  That  oflf  to  the  green -wood  the  young  maidens  bounded, 
And  danced  round  the  May-pole  in  praises  of  Spring, 
But  not  one  faint  note  to  my  memory  was  sounded, 
Except  that  they  called  me  the  dreaded  Frost- King. 

''  Few,  few  are  the  voices  that  now  greet  my  coming, 
Though  millions  stand  ready  to  bid  me  adieu; 
The  chorus  of  summer,  the  bees'  busy  humming 
Say  plainly — '  Jack  Frost  we  've  no  welcome  for  you.' 

"■  The  poor  mark  my  footsteps  with  hearts  full  of  sadness, 
For  Want's  haggard  train  follows  close  on  my  track ; 
Whose  dim,  spectral  forms  rob  the  future  of  gladness, 
While  Hope,  man's  good  angel,  dejected,  shrinks  back. 

"The  chilling  reception  which  everywhere  meets  me 
I  answer  with  looks  and  with  hand  quite  as  cold ; 
And  the  laugh  of  the  thoughtless  young  school -boy  who 
greets  me 
As  Winter's  forerunner  but  makes  me  more  bold. 


38  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


"  I  walk  into  gardens,  and  if  there  still  lingers 
An  apple,  a  pear,  or  a  peach  within  sight, 
I  leave  on  its  cheek  the  deep  print  of  my  fingers ; 
And  quickly  the  news  flies  — '  Jack  Frost  came  last 
night/ 

"And  now,  young  and  old,  earth's  pleasures  pursuing. 
Attend  to  my  counsel,  and  heed  what  I  say :  — 
Help  the  poor  and  the  friendless,  and  thus  humbly  doing. 
The  blessings  of  thousands  will  cheer  life's  dark  way." 


Unlike  the  oracles  of  old, 

That  dark,  unmeaning  lessons  taught. 
May  this,  "  Our  Oracle,"  unfold 

Truth's  language,  with  instruction  fraught. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  39 


Though  at  its  shrine  no  sages  bend, 
The  future's  hidden  page  to  scan ; 

Nor  kings,  with  regal  pomp  attend. 
To  learn  what  heaven  conceals  from  man, 


Our  humble  vehicle  of  thought. 

Through  mind's  unbounded  realm  may  run; 
And  teach,  what  Plato  dimly  sought, — 

Man  is  immortal,  God  is  one. 


Or  may  it  soar  on  starry  wings, 
To  worlds  that  Newton  ne'er  explored; 

And  spread  the  page  the  lightning  brings, 
With  varied  treasures  richly  stored. 


Proud  Greece!  thy  oracles  are  dumb! 

Thy  palaces  in  ruins  lie! 
And  slowly  beats  Time's  "muffled  drum. 

While  men  and  empires  fade  and  die. 


40  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Yet  still,  thy  sons'  heroic  deeds, 

Burn  brightly,  lit  by  Freedom's  sun,- 

While  virtue  lives,  or  valor  bleeds. 
The  world  shall  point  to  Marathon. 


Thy  oracles  are  dumb!  yet  speaks 
The  voice  of  rare  old  Socrates; 

Still  leap  from  all  thy  mountain  peaks 
The  thunders  of  Demosthenes. 


Thy  Solon  stemmed  Oppression's  flood, 
Whose  billows  swept  thy  classic  land; 

Purged  a  stern  Draco's  code  of  blood, 
And  ruled  thee  with  a  gentler  hand. 


And  king  of  all  the  noble  throng. 
Whose  mighty  sway  the  ages  own, 

Thy  peerless  Homer,  prince  of  song. 
On  Fame's  proud  summit  sits  alone. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  41 


The  ^'letters  which  thy  Cadmus  gave," 
On  paths  of  flame  to  us  have  come ; 

They  saved  thee  from  oblivion's  grave, 
While  all  thy  oracles  are  dumb. 


Thy  name  shall  live,  immortal  Greece! 

For  learning  has  preserved  the  scroll 
That  tells  thy  fame  in  war,  and  peace, 

And  nobler  triumphs  of  the  soul. 


But  Knowledge  shut  her  shining  gates 
To  all  but  fortune's  favored  ones; 

No  humble  schools  adorned  thy  states, 
The  Press  taught  not  thy  gallant  sons. 


America!  we  turn  to  thee! 

Fair  land!  that  knows  no  mental  dearth; 
For  where  the  pilgrim  bent  the  knee 

The  school -house  rose  to  bless  the  earth. 


42  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


The  book  of  Life  our  fathers  read ; 

This  was  their  oracle  divine; 
And  by  its  light  their  hearts  were  led 

To  worship  at  the  Christian  shrine. 


From  forest  church,  the  temple  where 
Young  Freedom  drew  her  vital  breath, 

Our  Henry  caught  the  exiles'  prayer  — 
The  cry  of,  ''  Liberty  or  Death." 

Srte  iWatri)  of  jFteetrom. 

(Read  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Young  Men's  Debating  Society,  1856.) 


A  blast  from  Freedom's  trumpet,  loud  and  clear, 
Bursts  on  the  slumb'ring  nation's  heavy  ear ; 
Her  voice  more  potent  now  than  when  she  spoke 
To  bid  our  fathers  break  a  foreign  yoke; 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  43 


For  Freedom  then  was  young,  or  being  old, 
Had  pined  in  dungeons  and  her  birth -right  sold. 
Far  back  amid  the  gloom  of  Egypt's  night 
Freedom  yet  breathed  —  not  Pharaoh's  arm  of  might 
Could  stay  her  march,  when  God's  appointed  led 
The  Hebrews  from  the  land  where  slaves  had  bled. 


O  Liberty !   weary  from  rack,  and  chain, 
Thy  martyrs  have  not  lived  and  died  in  vain; 
The  reeking  scaffold,  prison  walls,  and  stake, 
Rich  with  the  world's  best  blood,  bid  thee  awake 
To  wear  thy  trampled  crown  —  resume  thy  sway 
Inspire  man's  trembling  hope  to  wait  the  day 
When  thy  victorious  arm  shall  rule  the  earth  — 
The  truth  proclaim  of  thy  immortal  birth. 

Ages  of  dark  oppression  brought  release. 
And  lo !  thy  banners  wave  o'er  classic  Greece ; 
At  Solon's  mighty  word,  stern  Draco's  law  — 
The  code  of  blood,  that  kept  the  land  in  awe. 


44  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Vanished  like  darkness  at  the  coming  light, 

And  justice  triumphed,  right  prevailed  o'er  might. 

But  still  thy  reign  was  short ;  time's  flood  rolled  o'er 

Thy  temples,  patriots'  graves,  when  thou  once  more 

Crushing  the  tyrant,  dashing  down  the  rod, 

"  Take  thy  appeal  from  tyranny  to  God." 

No  vain  appeal,  when  thrice -armed  justice  sends 

Her  prayer  of  faith  to  him  whose  fiat  bends 

The  despot's  will  to  work  in  channels  dark, 

And  build  for  drowning  Liberty  an  ark. 

See  Roman  valor  to  thy  standard  fly, 
Resolved  for  thee  to  live  or  nobly  die ! 
Rome's  mighty  pulse  that  beat  throughout  the  world 
Shook  thrones  to  atoms — while  thy  flag  unfurled, 
Inspired  thy  prophets  waiting  long  for  thee, 
To  write  upon  the  crumbling  walls  of  tyranny, 
Belshazzar's  doom  —  which  God-  will  execute 
Though  sceptics  scoflf,  and  justice  oft  is  mute. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  45 


Far  o'er  Judea's  mountains  sweetly  sing 

The  herald  angels :  ''  Lo,  there  comes  a  king 

To  whose  mild  sceptre  age-crowned  Wrong  shall  yield, 

War's  bloody  cohorts  leave  the  tented  field, 

Captives  for  truth,  from  dungeon  walls  go  free, 

And  bondmen  sing  the  praise  of  Liberty." 

But  slow  thy  march,  O  Freedom !   o'er  that  light 

Which  broke  the  darkness  of  a  pagan  night, 

The  mantling  veil  of  ignorance  was  hung; 

For  thee  no  altars  burned,  no  poets  sung; 

Justice  was  silent,  none  dared  plead  for  thee. 

Thy  prophets  cried, — "When  shall  thy  coming  be"? 

But  soon  immortal  Dante  lights  the  fire 

In  Freedom's  temples,  and  retunes  her  lyre; 

His  solemn  song  along  the  ages  rolls. 

To  leave  a  path  of  flame  in  kindred  souls; 

When  Milton,  England's  Homer,  swells  the  strain 

Which  kings  and  bigots  sought  to  quench  in  vain. 


46  COMMEMORATlyE  TOEMS. 

f 

And  bids  its  glorious  and  majestic  chime 
Sweep  on  unprisoned  by  the  gates  of  time. 


O  doubting  world!  ages  proclaim  that  Truth, 
Immortal,  blossoms  in  perpetual  youth; 
Error  and  Wrong  grow  old,  and  pine,  and  die; 
While  Right  and  Justice  sit  enthroned  on  high. 
From  out  the  cloud  that  spreads  its  darkening  pall. 
Freedom  again  sends  forth  her  warning  call ; 
And  Wycliffe  speaks — appeals  from  popes  to  God, 
While  British  hearts  defy  Rome's  threatening  rod. 


An  age  rolls  on,  and  Huss,  the  martyr,  dies; 
His  burning  pyre  illumines  the  moral  skies ; 
Bohemia's  wilds  re-echo  with  his  prayer  — 
His  voice,  like  John  the  Baptist's  cries,  prepare! 
Forth  from  his  dungeon,  words  prophetic  fly. 
One  mightier  comes — his  advent  draweth  nigh. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  47 


Meanwhile  the  flag  of  Freedom  proudly  waves 
On  Alpine  heights  —  for  there  no  cringing  slaves 
Breathe  the  pure  air,  nor  tyrants  quench  the  flame 
That  burns  a  beacon  light  and  writes  thy  name, 
O  Liberty,  in  characters  so  bright 
That  Wrong  grows  pale,  and  trembles  at  the  sight. 

Thy  shrine  within  his  heart,  Columbus  steers 
To  find  fulfilled  the  dream  of  early  years; 
A  land  by  lords  and  minions  never  trod  — 
Where  foot  of  slave  ne'er  cursed  the  verdant  sod; 
Land  of  majestic  mountains,  from  whose  peaks 
The  eagle.  Freedom's  emblem,  wildly  shrieks; 
Where  sweeping  rivers  roll  in  tameless  pride. 
Symbol  of  that  free  spirit  which  defied 
In  later  ages,  England's  vengeful  stroke, 
And  to  all  despots,  words  of  terror  spoke. 

Freedom,  thy  mightiest  herald  since  the  birth 
Of  Empires,  to  arouse  the  drowsy  earth  — 


48  COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


The  Press  appears;   and  trembling,  lynx-eyed  power 
Builds  up  his  barriers  to  delay  the  hour 
When  thy  swift  angel  with  his  burning  wings 
Shall  light  thy  fires  beneath  the  throne  of  kings. 

The  time  draws  nigh ;  a  monk's  brave  voice  is  heard 
Awak'ning  souls  with  Truth's  omnific  word. 
Rome's  baleful  power,  that  chained  the  minds  of  men, 
Fears  less  the  torch  of  war  than  Luther's  pen. 
The  thrones  of  Europe  shake;  and  now  appear 
The  hosts  of  Truth  and  Error  —  hope  and  fear 
Hang  in  the  balance  —  while  with  faith  sublime, 
Heroic  spirits  hail  the  coming  time. 

The  night  of  ages  ends — the  morning  breaks  — 
Science  and  art  arise  —  the  Gospel  wakes 
New  echoes  in  the  chambers  of  the  soul, 
And  speaks  to  man  of  his  immortal  goal. 
Though  great  thy  conquests,  Freedom,  greater  far 
The  victories  that  shall  crown  thy  triumph  car. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS  49 


New  hosts  shall  aid  thee;  steam  and  lightning  steeds 
Shall  do  thy  bidding  to  proclaim  the  deeds 
Of  every  noble  heart  thy  name  inspires  — 
While  Press  and  Pulpit  fan  thine  altar  fires. 

Behold  upon  the  May  Hower's  deck  a  band 

Born  to  create  an  empire  and  command ; 

Fear  could  not  daunt  them  —  when  the  voice  within 

To  duty  called  —  to  perish  was  to  win. 

Loyal  to  God  and  conscience,  how  sublime 

The  needed  lesson  for  all  coming  time! 

On  Plymouth  Rock  the  tower  of  Freedom  stands, 

Our  refuge,  and  the  hope  of  other  lands. 

From  raging  billows  and  the  tempest's  roar 

The  pilgrim  fathers  find  a  cheerless  shore. 

The  wings  of  faith  upbore  them  in  that  hour. 

When  deep  affliction  tried  their  spirits'  power. 

The  church  and  school -house,  reared  amid  the  woods, 

Sparkled  like  gems  in  Nature's  solitudes; 


50  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Here  lay  thy  streng^th,  intrepid  men,  to  bear 
All  dangers,  and  through  toil,  and  blood  prepare 
A  home  for  Freedom's  sons,  who,  from  afar 
Cheered  by  the  promise  of  the  western  star, 
Leave [^ home,  and  kindred,  and  their  fathers'  graves, 
Shaking  Oppression's  dust  in  ocean's  waves; 
And  when  at  length  the  voice  of  Henry  fired 
A  people's  pulsing  heart,  that  tongue  inspired 
Was  but  a  living  echo  of  thine  own. 
Rousing  the  nation,  while  it  shook  a  throne. 

The  day  draws  nigh,  and  Freedom's  signal  gun 

Makes  classic  ground  the  soil  of  Lexington; 

And  Bunker's  height,  and  Yorktown's  plains  reveal 

The  sparks  that  tyrants  struck  from  patriots'  steel. 

Unequaled  heroes !  all  thy  names  are  set. 

To  shine  as  jewels  in  Fame's  coronet. 

Great  Franklin !   earth  records  thee,  patriot,  sage ; 

And  lightning,  scribe  imperial,  signs  the  page. 

But  who  shall  sing  of  peerless  Washington, 

Freedom's  most  honored,  purest,  noblest  son.? 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


On  Truth's  bright  pinions  let  the  muse  ascend 

Some  moral  Chimborazo  ere  she  lend 

Her  rapt'rous  strain  to  swell  the  matchless  fame 

That  glows  around  that  great,  majestic  name; 

For  Freedom  gives  her  spotless  chief  a  throne 

Among  her  hierarchs,  where  he  reigns  alone. 

America  from  England's  yoke  is  free; 

O  prophet  muse !   what  shall  her  future  be  ? 

Behold  a  cloud  appears,  whose  threat'ning  form 
With  muttering  thunders  speak  the  coming  storm ; 
The  simoon  blast  sweeps  o'er  our  hills  and  plains, 
Sending  its  poison  through  the  nation's  veins; 
Justice!  before  thee,  slavery's  victims  stand 
Swift  witnesses  against  our  guilty  land. 
Patriots!  sad  sight  the  historic  page  to  see 
Red  with  the  record  of  iniquity. 
But  Freedom  boasts  the  slave's  great  champion;  — 
Let  Massachusetts  guard  her  Garrison! 
For  few  like  him  adorn  her  annals  now. 
Proud  Nature  on  his  calm  and  dauntless  brow 


52  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


Has  set  her  royal  sig:net;  and  his  name 
With  Luther's  shall  endure  —  a  pillar'd  flame 
To  light  the  track  of  ages,  till  the  world 
Shall  see  Wrong's  tottering  throne  to  ruin  hurled. 

Hark !   from  the  plains  of  Kansas  mournful  comes 
The  solemn  roll  of  Freedom's  muffled  drums  — 
Upon  her  sacred  soil  to  plant  the  tree 
Whose  deadly  fruit  shall  poison  Liberty  — 
See,  foes  of  her  own  household  now  conspire 
With  armed  invaders,  burning  with  desire 
To  blast  with  slavery's  curse  this  paradise  — 
Sons  of  the  pilgrims,  Freedom  calls,  arise! 

O  thou  my  country !   hast  thy  patriots'  blood 
Been  shed  in  vain  ?     Shall  slavery's  surging  flood 
Roll  o'er  our  western  Eden,  merging  deep 
The  hopes  our  father's  cherished  ?    Shall  it  sweep 
O'er  Freedom's  altars,  till  beneath  the  waves 
Slaves  with  oppressors,  find  dishonored  graves? 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  53 


Forth  from  old  Plymouth  Rock  the  murmurs  go, 
And  back  snow-crowned  Nevadas  thunder,  No! 
Strong  arms  shall  guard  thee,  Freedom!   and  around 
Thy  holy  land,  temples,  and  battle-ground, 
Build  bulwarks,  such  as  freemen  only  can  — 
Free  speech  and  Press,  to  shield  the  rights  of  man. 

A  thou,  O  noble  band  of  pioneers. 
Who  left  thy  firesides,  and  aflfection's  tears, 
Thy  cause  more  just  than  when  the  Hermit  made 
A  camp  of  Europe's  vineyards;  thy  crusade 
No  ignorance  inspired,  nor  monarchs  crown 
Thy  deeds  chivalrous,  when  are  cloven  down 
Those  rights  as  sacred  to  all  hearts  that  feel. 
As  e'er  invoked  the  aid  of  glist'ning  steel! 
Brave  band  of  martyrs!   far  along  the  line 
Of  coming  ages  shall  thy  virtues  shine; 
Enrolled  in  Fame's  proud  temple,  thou  shalt  stand 
Among  the  noble  few  of  every  land, 
Who,  rushing  at  beleaguered  Freedom's  call, 
Upheld  her  ensign,  or  avenged  its  fall. 


54  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


But  on  our  soil  she  fears  not  open  foes; 
Her  deadliest  enemies,  and  curse,  are  those 
Who  plead  in  the  great  name  of  Liberty  — 
Of  equal  rights  —  the  people's  sovereignty. 

Young  men !  to  you  imperiled  Freedom  speaks ! 
Youth's  generous,  uncorrupted  heart  she  seeks! 
Earth's  richest  heritage  is  yours  to  guard. 
And  acting  nobly,  ye  shall  see  unbarred 
Oppression's  gate  —  and  from  her  crumbling  wall 
Hear  Freedom's  watchmen  to  the  nations  call. 


^•^. 


Sptittg 


Spring  comes  again  and  waves  her  spotless  banners, 
The  spoils  she  won  from  Winter's  mighty  king; 

All  Nature  joins  to  swell  the  loud  hosannas, 
And  hails  the  triumph  of  the  gentle  Spring. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  55 


Thou  art  the  child  of  Hope,  and  for  thy  coming 
The  pale  young  girl  in  faith  has  waited  long; 

And  when  she  heard  the  birds'  melodious  humming, 
Glad  as  the  birds,  she  joined  their  choral  song. 


'Neath  humble  roofs,  where  Want,  his  throne  uprearing, 
Ruled  like  a  tyrant  till  thy  heralds  came, 

The  poor  rejoiced,  as  when  the  Master  hearing, 
The  sick  arose,  and  blessed  the  Saviour's  name. 


Benignant  power!  thine  outstretched  wing  of  healing 
Cures  not  alone  the  ills  the  body  knows; 

The  wounded  heart,  beneath  its  burden  reeling. 
Feels  thy  soft  hand  uplift  its  weight  of  woes. 


For  thou  art  emblem  of  the  clime  eternal. 
Where  earth's  sad  children  shall  forget  their  grief: 

Where  deathless  flowers  shall  bloom  forever  vernal. 
Where  is  no  blasted  fruit,  nor  withered  leaf. 


S6  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Then  spread  thy  balm  on  every  zephyr's  pinion, 
With  all  the  music  of  the  warbling  choir; 

Vast  is  the  empire  where  thou  hold'st  dominion, 
And  millions  wait  the  breathings  of  thy  lyre. 


'*^. 


a  J^unetal  2rj)ou8l)t. 


By    bayard    TAYLOR. 


When  the  pale  genius,  to  whose  hollow  tramp 

Echoes  the  startled  chambers  of  the  soul, 
Waves  his  inverted  torch  o'er  that  wan  camp 

Where  the  archangels'  marshaling  trumpets  roll, 
I  would  not  meet  him  in  the  chamber  dim, 

Hushed  and  o'erburthened  with  a  nameless  fear, 
When  the  breath  flutters,  and  the  senses  swim,    • 

And  the  dread  hour  is  near! 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  57 


Though  love's  dear  arms  might  clasp  me  fondly  then, 

As  if  to  keep  the  summoner  at  bay, 
And  woman's  woe,  and  the  calm  grief  of  men 

Hallow  at  last,  the  still,  unbreathing  clay  — 
These  are  earth's  fetters,  and  the  soul  would  shrink 

Thus  bound,  from  darkness  and  the  dread  unknown, 
Stretching  its  arms  from  earth's  eternal  brink, 

Which  it  must  dare  alone! 


But  in  the  awful  silence  of  the  sky, 

Upon  some  mountain  summit,  never  trod. 
Through  the  bright  ether  would  I  climb  to  die 

Afar  from  mortals,  and  alone  with  God! 
'  To  the  pure  keeping  of  the  stainless  air 

Would  I  resign  my  feeble,  failing  breath, 
And  with  the  rapture  of  an  answered  prayer 

Welcome  the  kiss  of  death ! 


The  soul  which  wrestled  with  that  doom  of  pain, 
Prometheus-like,  its  lingering  portion  here. 


58  COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


Would  there  forget  the  vulture  and  the  chain, 
And  leap  to  freedom  from  its  mountain -bier ! 

All  that  it  ever  knew  of  noble  thought, 
Would  guide  it  upward  on  the  glorious  track, 

Nor  the  keen  pangs  by  parting  anguish  wrought, 
Turn  its  bright  glances  back! 


Then  to  the  elements  my  fame  would  turn, 

No  worms  should  riot  on  my  coffined  clay. 
But  the  cold  limbs,  from  that  sepulchral  urn, 

In  the  slow  storms  of  ages  waste  away! 
Loud  winds,  and  thunder's  diapason  high. 

Should  be  my  requiem  through  the  coming  time. 
And  the  white  summit,  fading  in  the  sky, 

My  monument  sublime. 


(The  reader  would  pardon  the  insertion  of  this  fine  poem  of  Mr.  Taylor's,  even 
were  it  not  needed  to  make  the  foUowingr  more  intelligible.) 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  $9 


nines  Sugg^steft  tin  ISeaiiing 
**  a  dFuneral  2rt)ougi)t/' 


When  life's  flame  flutters,  and  unwelcome  death 
Whispers  his  summons  in  my  burdened  ear; 

When  the  heart's  chamber  feels  his  icy  breath  — 
To  light  the  darkness  of  that  hour  so  drear, 
May  friends  be  round  me,  and  be  kindred  near ; 

I  would  not  meet  the  terror-king  alone. 
For  erring  mortal  is  the  child  of  fear. 

Not  all  the  orbs  which  gem  night's  sparkling  zone, 
Can  break  the  mantling  gloom  that  shrouds  the 
"dread  unknown." 


Though  round  my  "  couch  magnificent "  should  sweep 
The  rapturous  music  of  the  rolling  spheres. 

Filling  with  harmony  creation's  deep, 
Sublimely  beating  the  long  march  of  years ! 
Would  it  have  power  to  quell  my  rising  fears, 


6o  COMMEMORATiyE   TOEMS. 


When,  hastening  onward  with  his  muffled  tread, 
The  ancient  monarch  of  the  tomb  appears? 

Sweeter  than  Nature's  anthems  round  my  bed, 
Affection's   angel  voice  when  breaks  life's  golden 
thread. 

I  would  not  seek  God's  cloudy  temple  tower, 
For  I  should  be  no  nearer  to  His  throne; 

T  is  at  the  altar  He  displays  His  power ; 
Between  the  cherubim  His  mercy  shone. 
Then  would  my  spirit  all  its  pride  disown. 

And  in  some  vale  where  flowers  their  fragrance  shed, 

There  would  1  die,  if  I  must  die  alone. 
"Ashes  to  ashes"  —  earth  may  claim  the  dead. 
And  on  her  gentle  bosom  would  I  lay  my  head. 

Man  cannot  die  alone;  "spirits  unseen 
Both  when  we  sleep,  and  when  we  wake," 

Walk  the  pure  ether  and  with  voice  serene 
Hold  converse  with  the  soul  that  fain  would  take 
Its  rapid  upward  flight,  longing  to  break 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  6i 


Earth's  heavy  fetters  and  the  bands  of  time. 

Great  Source  of  help !  oh,  give  me  strength  to  make 
Of  faith  and  love  my  "monument  sublime," 

Tow'ring  above  life's  storms  to  heaven's  unchanging 
clime ! 


^«^. 


STfte  piaggt^ountrs  of  JBlg  <ffit)UtJi)00tr  Hags. 


The  playgrounds  of  my  childhood  days, — 
Where  are  ye  ?  stately  mansions,  speak ! 

For  where  ye  stand  my  fancy  strays  — 
The  scenes  of  early  years  I  seek. 


The  brook  upon  whose  brink  I  played, 
And  sailed  with  pride  my  tiny  boat; 
The  tree  beneath  whose  grateful  shade, 
'  I  listened  to  the  wild-bird's  note,— 


62  COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


Have  passed  away  —  and  gardens  bloom 
Where  "  God's  first  temples"  reared  their  spires; 

And  cultured  flowers  now  yield  perfume 
Where  Nature  lit  her  incense  fires. 


Though  fled,  ye  many  scenes  of  youth, 
Your  image  is  before  me  still; 

At  memory's  magic  wand  of  truth 
Ye  rise  — and  forest,  field  and  rill 


Once  more  their  virgin  beauty  wear  — 
Once  more  the  violet's  sweets  are  spread 

On  wings  of  summer's  softest  air, 
A  censer's  breath,  where'er  I  tread. 


Fond  scenes,  amid  whose  bowers  we  dreamed. 
Sweet  earnest  of  a  joy  complete; 

When  grief  like  noon's  short  shadows  seemed 
To  seek  a  grave  beneath  our  feet. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  63 


©n  ti)e  Beatf)  of  aionio  Hetois, 

(January,  1861.) 


Bard  and  historian  of  thy  native  town, 
Among  whose  hills  and  on  whose  sounding  shore 

Thou  oft  hast  wandered,  giving  them  renown, 
The  message  comes  —  the  poet  is  no  more. 


Yet  living  still  in  thy  melodious  song 
Whose  classic  beauty  won  the  critic's  praise; 

What  varied  pictures  on  the  mem'ry  throng! 
How  glows  the  fancy  kindled  by  thy  lays. 


Thy  pen  of  genius  spread  from  land  to  land 
The  thrilling  legends  of  a  vanished  race ; 

Made  known  each  haunted  hill  and  dale,  where  stands 
The  mound  above  the  red  man's  burial  place. 


64  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Before  thy  potent  wand  the  past  unrolled 
The  crimson  curtain  of  the  Indian's  life; 

We  hear  the  war-whoop  sounding  through  the  wold, 
And  watch  the  onset  of  the  savage  strife. 


But  softer  scenes  upon  our  vision  rise 
Beside  the  moon -lit  lake,  'neath  bending  boughs, 

Where  youth  and  beauty  speak  with  lover's  eyes; 
And  the  Great  Spirit  hears  their  simple  vows. 


Rest  from  thy  many  labors,  rest  in  peace, 
Lynn  shall  not  soon  forget  her  gifted  son; 

Thy  works  shall  follow,  though  thy  toilings  cease ; 
Green  are  the  laurels  that  thy  life  has  won. 

The  voice  of  Censure  finds  no  utt'rance  now; 

Before  the  gates  of  Immortality 
She  sits  with  silent  tongue  and  reverent  brow, — 

An  angel  speaks,  whose  name  is  Charity; 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  6$ 


Guide  and  Instructor  of  my  early  youth, 
This  heart-felt  tribute  I  may  not  refuse; 

But  wreathe  a  garland  from  the  fields  of  truth, 
The  grateful  off'ring  of  my  humble  muse. 

(Read  before  a  Literary  Circle.) 


The  skies  that  bend  o'er  childhood's  path 
Are  radiant  with  the  light  of  joy; 

No  storms  of  passion  sweep  in  wrath, 
No  cares  its  happiness  alloy. 


To  youth,  grief  comes  a  transient  guest; 

Lightly  as  sails  the  ocean  bird 
The  crystal  wave,  its  sorrows  rest, 
'    But  leave  the  heart's  great  deep  unstirred. 


66  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


At  memory  of  its  days  of  peace,. 

On  fancy's  wings  we  fly  once  more 
To  revel  in  its  bowers  of  ease, 

And  walk  upon  its  stormless  shore. 


Once  more  we  see  life's  treacherous  deep 
Now  meek,  by  gentle  winds  caressed; 

We  see  hope's  distant  meteors  sweep, 
That  light  the  ''  Islands  of  the  Blest." 


What  visions  dance  before  our  eyes! 

What  glory  gilds  the  coming  time! 
Mightier  than  all  beneath  the  skies 

Is  childhood's  faith — its  hope,  sublime. 


That  faith,  life's  mysteries  yet  shall  know; 

That  heaven -born  hope  shall  never  die ; 
Where  earth's  rude  tempests  never  blow, 

The  **  Islands  of  the  Blest"  still  lie. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  67 


And  when  this  doom  of  pain  is  o'er, 
Across  the  sea  shall  mortals  sail, 

To  find  that  dream -invested  shore. 
Where  only  sordid  hopes  shall  fail. 


Twas  sunset,  in  the  Autumn  time. 
When  forests  blushed  in  robes  of  gold, 

A  gentle  spirit  heard  the  chime 
That  called  it  to  its  Father's  fold. 


In  life's  inspiring  mom  she  stood; 

Unfolding  buds  of  joy  lay  spread 
On  every  hand — hill,  vale  and  wood, 

Sung  of  the  living,  not  the  dead. 


68  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


But  changed  the  scene ;  with  muffled  tread 
Death's  herald  comes;  hope's  meteor  beams 

That  on  time's  distant  mountains  shed 
Their  luring  light,  have  fled  like  dreams. 

Fond  hearts  must  yield  their  treasured  trust ; 

And  broken  circles  bear  the  blow 
That  lays  in  consecrated  dust 

A  cherished  one,  'twas  joy  to  know. 

As  child,  as  sister,  and  as  friend, 
Around  each  name  love  wound  its  spell; 

Her  presence  made  our  spirits  blend. 
Her  absence  makes  —  what  none  can  tell. 


There  is  no  need  of  laurel  wreaths 
To  crown  a  guileless  life  like  hers; 

A  shrine  of  mem'ries  dear  she  leaves. 
And  there,  all  hearts  are  worshippers. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  69 


With  undimmed  faith  she  saw  the  time 
When  all  earth's  families  shall  meet. 

O'er  slow  decay  this  trust  sublime 
Triumphed,  and  made  her  life  complete. 

With  more  than  mother's  deathless  love 
Shall  angel  arms  be  round  her  flung; 

And  music  fill  the  home  above 
Sweeter  than  sister  voices  sung. 

God  of  the  darkness,  and  the  light! 

When  hearts  beat  faint,  and  lips  grow  pale, 
Reveal  to  our  weak,  waning  sight 

The  land  that  lies  within  the  veil; 


The  mansion  'neath  whose  spacious  dome 
Earth's  weary  caravan  shall  rest; 

From  whose  endearments  none  shall  roam. 
For  none  can  find  a  spot  more  blest. 


70  COMMEMOR/ITiyE  TOEMS. 


(Sung  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Elbridgb  G.  Brooks,  1850.) 


Eternal  Power,  to  whom  alone 
The  homage  of  the  soul  is  due ! 

We  bend  before  Thy  gracious  throne, — 
Our  oflf'rings  bring — our  vows  renew. 


With  strength  divine  Thy  servant  arm. 
Whose  guiding  hand  we  now  invite; 

If  friends  betray,  or  foes  alarm. 
Be  Thou  his  refuge  and  his  might. 


Like  his  great  Master,  may  he  speak 
The  words  of  Love,  whose  healing  power 

Shall  bless  the  poor,  uplift  the  weak 
And  crown  with  hope  each  mortal  hour. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  71 


A  messenger  of  Sacred  Truth, 
The  erring  soul  may  he  restore ; 

And  teach  the  tender  mind  of  youth 
Thy  Law  to  love, —  Thy  Grace  adore. 


The  Gospel's  joy  may  he  impart 
To  mourning  souls  with  grief  oppressed 

Its  balm  shall  soothe  the  wounded  heart, 
And  give  the  weary  heavenly  rest. 


The  flock  committed  to  his  care, 
With  guardian  eye  may  he  defend ; 

His  hopes  and  labors  may  they  share; 
Their  joys  and  sorrows  kindly  blend. 


O  Thou,  to  whose  exalted  Son 

A  ransomed  world  shall  bend  the  knee, 
Hasten  the  triumph  —  scarce  begun  — 

Qf  Peace  and  Christian  Unity. 


72  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


(Sung  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Sumner  Ellis,  i860.) 


Benignant  Power!  whose  watchful  care 
Upholds  the  millions  of  our  race, 

To  Thee  we  bend  in  humble  prayer, 
Here  in  the  temple  of  Thy  grace. 


Thy  spirit  on  Thy  servant  send 
Who  shall  before  Thy  people  stand. 

And  in  the  coming  time  shall  tend 
This  vineyard  planted  by  Thy  hand. 


Love's  armor  of  celestial  power 
O  grant  him  for  the  work  divine. 

To  shield  him  in  life's  battle  hour 
And  guard  him  when  his  foes  combine. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Like  Him  who  sought  the  poor  and  weak, 
And  wept  o'er  every  scene  of  woe, 

So  may  Thy  servant  ever  speak 
The  words  that  shall  with  mercy  flow. 


Help  us  to  spread  along  his  way' 

The  deeds  that  spring  from  Christian  hearts ; 
And  shed  around  his  darkest  day 

The  light  that  sympathy  imparts. 

Parent  Divine,  whose  grace  at  last 
All  tongues  and  nations  shall  adore, 

We  know  the  love  that  crowns  the  past 
Shall  guard  Thy  children  evermore. 


73 


74  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


(Sung  at  the  Installation  of  Rev.  Charlbs  W.  Biddle.  1863.) 


Father,  where'er  Thy  children  bend 
In  humble  homes  or  temples  grand, 

Thy  conscious  presence  Thou  dost  lend, 
And  there  is  felt  Thy  guiding  hand. 


To  Thy  young  servant  speak  to-day ; 

Thy  spirit's  life  and  power  bestow, 
That  he  may  lead  Thy  people's  way 

Where  Truth's  immortal  fountains  flow. 


His  Master's  spirit  may  he  bear, 
Touched  with  the  plaint  of  human  woe, 

Bidding  the  child  of  pain  and  care 
A  Father's  endless  mercy'know. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  75 


May  we  with  sympathizing  hearts 
His  joys  and  griefs  and  labors  share ; 

And  may  each  year  that  swift  departs, 
The  union  of  our  souls  declare. 


Thy  blessing  on  Thy  Church  descend, 
And  crown  its  mission  from  above 

With  triumphs  that  shall  never  end  — 
Emblem  of  Thine  eternal  love. 


O,  Thou!  whose  throne  shall  ever  stand 
Upheld  by  Justice,  Truth  and  Right, 

Hasten  the  day  when  every  land 
Shall  live  beneath  Thy  gospel's  light. 


76  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


(Sungr  at  the  Re-Dedication  of  the  First  Universalist  Church,  Union  Street,  1864.) 


Eternal  Power,  whose  fiat  raised 

Earth's  frame  with  countless  glories  hung. 
Whose  name  creation's  hosts  have  praised 

Since  morning  stars  together  sung, 


This  temple,  which  our  fathers  reared, 
That  Truth  might  find  an  altar  free, 

This  shrine  to  them  and  us  endeared, - 
We  consecrate  anew  to  Thee. 


Let  heart,  and  voice,  and  organ -peal, 
Rising  sublime  to  heaven's  high  dome, 

Proclaim  the  joy  Thy  children  feel 
To  greet  once  more  their  Sabbath  home. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  77 


May  Art  here  symbol  forth  the  power 
That  set  the  pillars  of  God's  throne; 

That  robed  in  beauty  tree  and  flower, 
And  heavens  in  splendors  all  their  own. 


Long  may  these  walls  an  emblem  stand 
Of  Thy  unchanging  love  to  man; 

Where  Faith  shall  see  a  Father's  hand 
Unfolding  His  eternal  plan. 


Here  may  the  voice  of  strife  be  hushed; 

A  rest  to  weary  souls  be  given ; 
And  mourning  hearts,  by  sorrow  crushed. 

Feel  the  consoling  power  of  heaven. 


Thou,  whose  Omniscient  eye  surveys 
The  devious  paths  Thy  children  tread, 

Guide  us  through  life's  uncertain  days. 
Our  help,  when  mortal  hope  has  fled. 


78  COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


©n  ti)e  Beatft  of  CoL  lEllstDortl). 

(1861.) 


Brave  leader  of  the  brave!  thy  fame 
Shall  live  with  Freedom's  latest  breath; 

For  linked  forever  with  thy  name, 
The  flag  that  wrapped  thy  form  in  death. 


And  patriots  through  all  coming  time, 
Where'er  the  stars  and  stripes  may  wave, 

Shall  hear  thy  funeral  dirge  sublime, 
A  requiem  o'er  thy  honored  grave. 


Lamented  martyr!  to  the  urn 
That  holds  thy  consecrated  clay. 

Freedom  shall  lead  her  sons,  to  learn 
The  price  her  votaries  must  pay. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TO  EMS.  79 


For  grim  Oppression  ever  stands 
With  sleepless  eyes  and  heart  of  Cain; 

And  Liberty  must  guide  her  bands 
Through  weary  years  of  toil  and  pain. 


What  is  the  price  of  Liberty  ? " 
"  Eternal  vigilance ! "  and  they 
That  guard  the  altars  of  the  free 
Must  sleep  not,  night  nor  day! 


God  of  the  Nations!  in  this  hour 
Of  darkness  hold  us  in  Thy  hand; 

Sustained  by  Thine  Almighty  power, 
No  evil  blights  our  native  land. 


8o  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Eo  tfjt  iWemovg  of  IE.  a.  1^. 


Angel  of  Patience!  with  us  dwell, 
Now  thy  young  sister,  Hope,  has  fled, 

For  woes  no  mortal  tongue  can  tell 
Throng  round  the  mem'ry  of  the  dead. 


We  grope  in  darkness  now ;  the  light 
Of  that  loved  presence  has  gone  out; 

Thou  must  be  with  us  through  this  night. 
Or  we  shall  faint  with  fear  and  doubt. 


So  like  a  dream!   and  can  it  be 
That  we  shall  meet  on  earth  no  more? 

The  gulf  of  death's  dread  mystery 
Is  deeper  than  we  thought  before. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  8i 


How  mirrored  in  that  calm,  sweet  face, 
Once  seen,  forgotten  nevermore. 

Shone  forth  that  gentleness  and  grace, 
The  jewels  that  her  spirit  wore. 


Patient,  beneath  Affliction's  rod. 
And  laying,  like  a  little  child, 

Her  hand  within  the  hand  of  God, 
She  to  His  will  was  reconciled. 


How  glows  the  beauty  of  that  life 
Upon  our  chastened  spirits'  gaze! 

What  power  to  quell  the  storms  of  strife, 
And  light  the  gloom  of  darkened  days! 


How  cluster  round  the  parents'  heart 
The  mem'ry  of  that  absent  one! 

What  shadows,  never  to  depart. 
Deepened  as  sank  her  life's  brief  sun! 


82  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


How  that  lone  sister's  heart  will  moan  . 

For  her  whose  voice,  from  childhood's  hour, 
Mingling  its  accents  with  her  own. 

Still  echoes  love's  undying  power. 


God  of  the  tempest,  and  the  calm ! 

Of  darkness,  and  of  healing  light! 
To  bleeding  hearts  O  send  a  balm! 

To  grief -closed  eyes,  immortal  sight. 

That  looks  beyond  the  vale  of  sense, 
And  sees  the  lost  of  earth  so  near, 

We  feel  a  hallowed  recompense, — 
The  blessing,  born  of  sorrow's  tear. 


Then  stay,  until  the  darkness  flee. 
Angel  that  points  our  eyes  above! 

Teaching  how  mourners'  tears  may  be 
The  mirror  of  a  Father's  love. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  S^ 


Cfte  proclamation  of  iEmancipation. 

(1863.) 


Hark!   to  the  nation's  listening  ear, 
A  blast  from  Freedom's  bugle  comes; 

No  more  her  war-scarred  heroes  hear 
The  mourning  of  her  muffled  drums. 


Its  sweet,  clear  melody  is  heard 
Above  the  cannon's  thundering  roar; 

Armed  legions  catch  the  electric  word 
The  lightning  bears  from  shore  to  shore. 


Like  war-horse  when  the  trumpet  sounds, 
The  nation's  pulsing  heart  is  thrilled; 

Light  gleams  o'er  sacred  battle-grounds, — 
Man  humbly  works  what  God  has  willed. 


84  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Fly!  o'er  Atlantic's  waters,  fly, — 
Once  crossed  by  Freedom's  weary  dove, 

And  flash  in  Europe's  threat'ning  eye 
The  truth  that  turns  her  wrath  to  love. 


Edict  of  Liberty!  thy  power 

Sunders  Oppression's  iron  rod ; 
While  the  chained  bondman  marks  the  hour 

When  Justice  wields  the  sword  of  God. 


Though  heralded  'mid  fire  and  smoke, 
And  flashing  of  War's  deadly  steel. 

We  bow  beneath  the  chast'ning  stroke 
That  smites  the  nation  but  to  heal. 


No  chance  marks  out  the  lightning's  path. 
Nor  blindly  come  earth's  crucial  pains. 

And  puny  man's  unhallowed  wrath 
A  Father's  hand  of  love  restrains. 


COMMEMOfUTiyE  TOEMS.  83 


O  doubting  ones,  God  rules  to-day, 
His  throne  unmoved  'mid  wildest  storm; 

And,  as  the  darkness  melts  away, 
Mercy  reveals  her  radiant  form. 


I^Btttn, 


(Sung  at  the  Obsequies  of  President  Lincoln, 
at  First  Universalist  Church,  1865.) 


God  of  the  nations!   in  this  hour, 
When  joy  exultant  turns  to  dust, 

Thou  art  the  same  benignant  power 
In  whom  our  fathers  put  their  trust! 


Turn  Thou  our  darkness  into  light! 

To  hope  our  agonizing  fear; 
Uplift  the  pall  that  hides  from  sight 

The  hand  of  Mercy,  ever  near. 


86  COMMEMORATiyE  TOE  MS. 


Our  country  mourns  her  fallen  chief, 
Who  led  his  people  through  the  sea 

The  ransomed  bondman  bends  in  grief, 
And  hushed  his  song  of  jubilee. 


As  Israel's  guide  from  Pisgah's  top 
Beheld  the  land  he  might  not  tread, - 

Our  Moses  saw  the  fetters  drop 

Ere  he  was  numbered  with  the  dead. 


O,  may  his  sacred  mantle  fall 

On  him  who  guides  the  ship  of  state ; 
And  as  the  prophet  heard  Thy  call 

May  he  for  Thy  commandment  wait. 


Praise  and  Thanksgiving,  Lord,  to  Thee! 

The  tempest  lulls  —  the  sun  appears! 
The  bow  of  Peace  and  Liberty 

Shines  through  the  nation's  falling  tears. 


COMMEMORATIFE  TOEMS.  87 


I^BWtt. 


(Sung  at  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the  First  Universalist  Church, 
May  27,  1872.) 


Great  Builder  of  the  earth  and  skies, 
Whose  temple  lifts  her  spacious  dome 

Where'er  the  solemn  mountains  rise, 
Or  ocean's  billows  wildly  foam. 


We  meet,  this  corner-stone  to  lay, 
In  honor  of  the  Truth,  whose  power 

Turns  error's  night  to  glorious  day. 
And  speeds  the  world's  redemption  hour. 


While  ages  roll,  this  rock  shall  be 
An  emblem  of  thy  changeless  love; 

Steadfast  when  tempests  toss  the  sea, 
Or  thunders  shake  the  heavens  above. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


Chief  Corner  Stone,  whose  matchless  name 
Is  known  and  sung  in  every  clime: 

Here  may  our  humble  work  proclaim, 
Thy  glory  in  the  coming  time. 


Oft  as  Thy  children  gather  here 
Around  this  consecrated  spot. 

Be  banished  every  servile  fear. 
And  earthly  vanities  forgot. 

Speed  Thou  the  coming  of  the  day. 
When  love  to  God  and  love  to  man 

Shall  sweep  all  other  creeds  away 
That  limit  Thy  eternal  plan. 


COMMEMORATIl^E  TOEMS. 


3!^B»nn. 


(Sung  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Ingalls  School-House, 
August  31.  1872.) 


Framer  of  all  the  worlds  of  space, 
Maker  of  all  the  beauty  seen 

Outspread  o'er  Nature's  lovely  face, 
On  mountain  top,  or  valley  green, — 


We  meet  to  dedicate  to-day 

This  temple  reared  in  Learning's  cause. 
Where  youthful  minds  shall  learn  the  way 

Of  Wisdom  and  her  sacred  laws. 


Our  native  land,  each  day  more  dear. 
As  church  and  school-house  crown  thy  hills; 

The  tree  of  Knowledge  blossoms  here, 
And  here  its  healing  balm  distills. 


90  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


O  Pilgrim  band,  whose  feet  once  trod 
Our  own  New  England's  barren  soil, 

The  seed  ye  sowed  with  trust  in  God 
This  day  rewards  your  faith  and  toil. 


Great  Source  of  Truth,  dispel  the  night 
Of  Ignorance  from  every  land! 

When  Science  with  her  wand  of  light 
Shall  walk  with  Virtue,  hand  in  hand. 


Proud  triumph  of  the  coming  years! 

For  thee  we  labor  still  and  wait  ; 
When  Hope  shall  reign  o'er  slavish  fears, 

And  Love  sit  crowned  in  robes  of  state. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  91 


iWemorial  ©tie, 

(For  Decoration  Day,  1875.) 


Memorial  Day!  thy  mem'ries  still 
Are  living  in  ten  thousand  hearts; 

Still  shine  from  blood-stained  vale  and  hill 
A  glory  that  no  more  departs. 


Brave  Patriot  Dead!   who  sleep  to-day 
Where  gentle  hands  shall  deck  the  sod, 

Still  speak  above  your  honored  clay, 
Your  deeds  wherever  man  has  trod. 


Brave  Patriot  Band!   who  livhig,  bear 

The  scars  from  many  a  field  of  strife. 
Not  vain  the  crown  of  wounds  ye  wear, 
.   Who  saved  the  nation's  periled  life. 


92  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


Living  or  dead,  ye  noble  band, 
The  nation  in  your  presence  bends; 

Sons  of  immortal  sires  ye  stand. 
And  late  with  earlier  glory  blends. 


Hushed  muffled  drums,  if  henceforth  shine 
With  brighter  beams  old  Freedom's  sun; 

If  taught  by  sacrifice  divine. 
Hearts  long  estranged  shall  beat  as  one. 


Then  fly,  thou  white-winged  angel,  fly ! 

From  sea  to  sea,  from  shore  to  shore; 
Fulfill  the  ancient  prophet's  cry, — 

The  nations  shall  learn  war  no  more. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


93 


a  pastor's  fflgadcome  S^ome, 

(Rev.  C.  W.  Biddle.  1878.) 


The  noiseless  wheels  of  time  roll  on; 

The  hour  of  parting  comes ; 
And  farewells  to  the  dear  ones  gone 

Sound  sad  as  muffled  drums. 


Then  to  the  waiting  heart  is  shown, 
How  vast  our  treasures  rise; 

And  absence  to  our  sight  makes  known 
The  wealth  that  round  us  lies. 


Pastor  and  friend!  the  welcome  sung, 

By  blended  voices  here. 
Finds  deeper  echoes  than  the  tongue 

Leaves  on  the  listening  ear. 


94  COMMEMOR/tTIVE  TOEMS. 


Here  to  the  scene  of  labor  done 
Through  youth  and  manhood's  prime, 

We  welcome  thee  where  thou  hast  won 
The  choicest  good  of  time. 


For  thou,  in  bright  or  darkened  hours, 

Our  joys  and  sorrows  knew; 
Stood  when  the  altar,  crowned  with  flowers, 

Shone  with  baptismal  dew. 


When  sweetly  rose  the  marriage  hymn. 
Thou  hast  been  near  our  side ; 

And  when  in  death  the  eye  grew  dim, 
Consoler  thou,  and  guide. 

Dearest  of  earthly  treasures  this, — 
The  tie  that  binds  all  hearts; 

That  finds  in  others'  good  its  bliss; 
That  lives,  when  life  departs, 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  95 


©He. 

(Sung:  at  the  250th  Anniversary  of  the  Settlement  of  Lynn,  1879,) 


Backward  is  rolling  the  curtain  of  Time! 

Lo,  the  dear  spot  where  our  forefathers  trod! 
Ocean's  grand  anthem  is  pealing  sublime, 

Grander  the  anthem  of  pilgrim  to  God! 
Heritage  dearer  than  tongue  ever  tells, 

Cherished  by  thousands  for  childhood's  sweet  hours, 
How  the  heart  leaps  at  the  sound  of  thy  bells! 

Stillness,  how  grateful  we  find  in  thy  bower 

Sitting  in  beauty,  thy  feet  in  the  sea. 
Mantled  in  billows,  the  hills  for  thy  crown, 

City  of  Lynn,  may  thy  chief  glory  be 
The  fame  of  thy  sons,  and  thy  daughters'  renown. 

Manhood  and  Virtue  shall  then  sit  enthroned, — 
Jewels  more  rare  than  encircle  thy  shore; 


96  COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


Bride  of  the  ocean,  with  rubies  enzoned, 
Honor  and  Worth  shall  exalt  thee  still  more. 

Ruler  of  Nations!  still  guard  our  fair  home, 

Shining  with  splendors  of  forest  and  sea; 
Dearest  spot  known,  though  the  wide  world  we  roam, 

Dearest  of  all  this  fair  land  of  the  free ; 
Prosper  the  works  of  our  hands  and  our  hearts, 

Loyal  to  Truth  and  to  Right  may  we  be; 
Building  up  higher  than  traflic's  proud  marts 

Temples  of  Worship  and  Learning  to  Thee. 


<*^ 


nines;. 


(Read  at  a  Concert  of  the  First  Universalist  Sunday  School,  1878, 
Swampscott  Branch.) 


Dear  friends,  with  warmest  hearts  we  greet 
Your  presence  in  this  hallowed  place; 

No  oifering  can  we  bring  more  meet 
Than  childhood's  innocence  and  grace. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  97 


The  circling  year  has  come  and  gone; 

Spring  gave  her  banners  to  the  breeze, 
And  Summer's  radiant  glory  shone, 

And  Autumn  sighed  through  leafless  trees. 


And  still  unbroken  was  our  band 
As  week  by  week  we  gathered  here; 

But  soon  was  seen  a  beckoning  hand. 
And  Death,  Sleep's  younger  sister,  near. 

And  then  she  passed  the  shadowy  line  — 
We  gazed  till  longing  eyes  grew  dim  — 

And  entering  mansions  more  divine, 
Was  one  with  saints  and  cherubim. 


We  sadly  speak  of  now,  and  then; 

And  trembling  think  of  here,  and  there; 
Till  taught  faith's  alphabet  —  Amen  — 

We,  doubtful,  trust  a  Father's  care. 


98  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


The  kindling  eye  we  may  not  see, 
Through  the  dark  medium  of  sense; 

Nor  hear  again  the  melody, 
Whose  loss  earth  cannot  recompense. 


Yet  nearer  to  the  land  unseen. 

She  points  a  pathway  for  our  feet; 

Till  fade  th'  imagined  bounds  between, 
And  life's  great  circle  seems  complete. 


But  from  this  retrospective  gaze 
We  turn  to  greet  the  present  hour; 

To  hear  the  music  of  the  lays 
That  warble  forth  from  childhood's  bower. 


Here,  while  the  stars  of  heaven  look  down. 
And  ocean  sings  her  solemn  psalm, 

While  yonder  hills  wear  summer's  crown. 
And  woods  distill  their  healing  balm,— 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


May  Nature's  voices  speak  thy  word, 
O  Conscience !  daughter  of  the  soul ; 

And  be  her  faintest  whisper  heard, 
When  stormy  waves  of  passion  roll. 


Here  may  we  learn  the  lessons  old, 
Taught  by  the  Master,  when  He  stood 

By  lake  and  mountain  side,  and  told 
The  wondrous  power  of  doing  good. 

We  come  to  learn  that  life  sublime, 
Whose  blessed  alchemy  of  love 

Transmutes  the  hates  of  ancient  time, 
And  lifts  the  groveling  soul  above. 

How  grand  the  psalm  the  ages  sing! 

How  glows  the  canvas  with  His  fame! 
How  sweet  the  poet's  anthems  ring! 

How  marble  speaks  His  matchless  name! 


99 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


How  has  His  light  illumed  mankind! 

His  spotless  life  taught  men  to  live! 
Upborne  by  faith,  what  millions  find 

The  peace  earth  cannot  take  nor  give! 

Where  reason  fails  there  faith  makes  known 
The  wisdom  science  cannot  teach; 

And  to  the  pure  in  heart  is  shown 
A  realm  no  telescope  can  reach. 


No  mystery  of  mysteries 

Disturbs  the  balance  of  His  rod ; 
No  doubts  nor  unknown  quantities 

Perplex  the  algebra  of  God. 


But  bounded  only  by  the  sweep 

Of  His  immeasurable  span, 
Worlds  known  and  unknown  ever  keep 

The  order  of  His  changeless  plan. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  loi 


Parents  and  teachers,  guard  the  trust 
Committed  to  your  watchful  care ; 

Ye  mould  not  perishable  dust, 
Ye  grave  immortal  tablets  there. 


Then  welcome  to  our  Sabbath  home! 

Parents  and  friends  your  work  behold ! 
These  stars  shall  shine  when  Heaven's  high  dome 

Shall  into  ancient  night  be  rolled. 

Thou  who  dost  hear  the  feeblest  cry 

Earth's  weakest  creature  breathes  to  Thee; 

Still  be  Thy  guardian  presence  nigh. 
Whose  whispers  hush  life's  stormy  sea. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


Hetricatoig  S^gmn. 

(First  Universalist  Church  Nahant  Street,  1873.) 


Thou  whose  omnific  fiat  reared 
Creation's  temple,  vast  and  grand ; 

Whom  prophets,  priests,  and  kings  revered, 
And  altars  built  at  Thy  command, — 

Thy  children  meet  beneath  this  dome 
To  consecrate  these  courts  to  Thee; 

Within  these  walls,  our  Sabbath  home. 
Dwell  peace  and  Christian  unity. 


The  memory  of  the  cherished  dead 
Chastens  this  hour  they  longed  to  see; 

Who  toiled  when  fainter  hearts  had  fled, 
And  won  for  us  the  victory. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  103 


Here  in  this  temple,  Lord  of  light, 
Be  taught  how  boundless  is  Thy  love; 

The  erring  find  the  way  of  right, 
The  mourner  healing  from  above. 


Here  may  Thy  gospel's  truth  fulfill 
Its  mission  to  the  needy  soul; 

Till  every  form  of  human  ill 
Shall  yield  to  its  Divine  control. 


So,  Lord,  the  coming  time  shall  reap 
The  harvest  of  the  ages  past; 

Till  in  Thy  cycles'  onward  sweep 
All  souls  shall  own  Thy  sway  at  last. 


I04  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


Sfeatmg  ftg  IWoonlig!)!.'' 


Come,  mingle  in  the  enchanting  scene, 
Young  men  and  maidens!   Winter  calls; 

See  how  he  throws  his  silvery  sheen 
Round  icy  palaces  and  halls! 


His  carpet  spread  upon  the  lake, 
More  wondrous  is  than  legends  tell,    . 

When  Arabs  kept  their  guests  awake. 
And  bound  them  with  the  storied  spell. 


With  steel-clad  feet  the  skater  springs; 

Swift  as  a  bird  his  wheeling  flight; 
Hark!  how  the  polished  metal  rings 

And  flashes  in  the  moonbeams  bright! 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  105 


Nature's  designer  all  untaught! 

See  with  what  nice  artistic  skill 
The  sharp  cut  lines  and  curves  are  wrought! 

How  his  steel  pencil  works  his  will! 


Tween  upper  and  the  lower  deep, 
His  course  is  grander  than  the  way 

Napoleon's  Alpine  armies  keep, 
O'er  heights  where  avalanches  play. 


One  starry  vault  above  his  head. 
Another  'neath  his  glistening  feet, 

He  seems  ethereal  paths  to  tread, 
Borne  on  a  shining  crystal  sheet! 


The  children  shout  with  wild  delight 
To  see  the  old  folks  share  their  play 

Their  young  eyes  never  saw  such  sight 
As  crowns  each  winter  holiday. 


io6  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


The  school-boy  hastes  with  joy  from  school, 
Soon  as  the  teacher's  reign  is  o'er; 

On  skates  he  owns  no  monarch's  rule; 
Here  skill  is  mightier  far  than  lore. 

The  maiden  comes  with  steps  of  grace 
To  lend  her  beauty  to  the  hour, 

And  north  winds  paint  upon  her  face 
A  rose  outblushing  Sharon's  flower. 


For  health  is  in  the  pure,  cold  air 

That  sweeps  o'er  Nature's  snow-capped  hills. 
And  life's  elixir  gushes  where 

The  Frost- King's  wand  transmutes  the  rills 


To  jewels  of  a  purer  ray. 
Than  peerless  Cleopatra  wore. 

When  her  imperial  barges  lay 
In  stately  pride  near  Tarsus'  shore. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  107 


Heedless  the  fair  of  many  a  fall, 
Caused  by  the  swift,  impatient  steeds, 

That  start  before  the  driver's  call, 
Remorseless  of  ungallant  deeds. 


What  Muse  will  lend  her  laureled  name 

An  offering  to  the  regal  art, 
More  noble  than  Olympian  game. 

In  which  crowned  monarchs  bore  a  part. 


No  Hebrew  poet  sung  thy  praise; 

No  Grecian  bard  around  thee  flung 
The  halo  of  immortal  lays  — 

No  incense  of  the  pen  or  tongue. 


From  Shakespeare's  matchless  muse  no  note 
Embalms  the  skater's  art  sublime ; 

From  Milton's  bird  of  song  there  float 
No  warblings  through  the  arch  of  time. 


io8  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


But  far  in  frosty  Northern  lands, 
Rich  in  wild  legendary  lore, 

In  ruder  times  the  minstrel  bands 
Sung  of  the  laurels  Uller  wore. 


This  monarch  ruled  the  realm  of  ice: 
A  mighty  god,  with  ponderous  skates, 

Who  beats  the  whirlwind  in  a  trice, 
And  for  the  lagging  tempest  waits. 


Ye  bards !  that  sing  with  rapturous  strains 
Of  peaceful  sea  and  placid  lake. 

When  these  are  changed  to  silvery  plains. 
Where  youth  and  beauty  may  partake 


Of  life's  sweet  banquet  hour  of  bliss,- 
Why  silent  all  the  tuneful  Nine? 

Why  mute  the  nine-fold  harmonies 
Ye  pour  round  every  other  shrine? 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  109 


Come  gather  on  the  gleaming  lake ; 

An  hour  forget  life's  toil  and  care; 
Youth's  early  joys  once  more  will  wake; 

For  health  and  beauty  meet  us  there. 


^oem 


(Read  at  the  Reunion  of  the  Young  Men's  Debating  Society, 
1881— A  Retrospect.) 


Some  thirty  years  ago,  or  near  that  time, 

A  few  young  men  who  had  not  reached  their  prime, 

Met  in  the  vestry — Silsbee  street,  you  know  — 

To  set  the  world  ahead,  or  strike  a  blow 

'T  would  bring  it  right  side  up.    This  little  job 

Just  set  on  foot  by  Buflfum,  Boyce  and  Cobb, —  ^* 

And  many  others  of  the  far-famed  club 

That  dimmed  the  Attic  glory  of  the  "  Hub,"— 


no  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


They  thought  to  finish  up;   and  so  bring  in 

The  grand  millenium  and  the  end  of  sin ; 

The  air  was  murky  with  the  smoke  of  battle 

And   slaves   were  bought   and  sold   and   whipped  like 

cattle, 
Under  the  very  shade  of  Freedom's  dome, 
Where  lived  the  Goddess  —  when  she  was  at  home. 

So  the  young  champions  took  up  the  cry. 
Resolved  to  conquer  or  to  bravely  die. 
What  glimpse  they  got  of  glory  or  of  fame  ? 
Say!  who  can  tell  as  each  put  down  his  name? 
Holden  and  Attwill,  known  as  Theodore, 
"Two  Johnsons"  (one  Professor),  Henry  Moore, 
Oliver  and  Shorey,  Tufts,  well-known  as  Gardiner, 
— And  better  known  round  here  than  Dr.  Lardner, — 
Holcomb  and  Crosman,  Stevenson  and  Wood, 
Crosman,  George  A. — Taber,  and  George  A.  Hood, 
Barry  and  Bancroft,  Brown,  A.  C.  Goodell, 
Sweetser  and  Chase,  Allen  and  Clark  and  Bell, 
Jameson  and  Hawkes,  Parsons  and  Steele  and  Hunt, 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  m 


(We  had  no  member  by  the  name  of  Lunt), 

McCutcheon,  Pierce,  and  E.  A.  Ingalls, 

(This  would  rhyme  well  with  Dingles,  Cringles,  Shingles), 

Attwills  —  three  more  of  them  the  records  show  — 

Jesse  (called  Jesse  L.)  William  and  Aaron  O. 

And  still  I  must  not  fail  to  mention  one, 

Son  of  the  slaves'  great  champion, 

An  honored  name  —  William  Lloyd  Garrison  —  ** 

Sweetser,  John  A. — and  Frothingham  and  Noyes, 

Make  up  the  band  that  spoke  with  pen  or  voice. 

Our  roll  of  honor,  Alley,  Walden,  Mudge, 
Shackford  and  Davis — these  we  must  not  grudge 
A  place  to  stand  upon  the  scroll  of  fame 
As  each  to-day  shall  answer  to  his  name. 

What  have  these  thirty  years  of  labor  wrought  ? 
What  price  been  paid  for  wealth  or  honors  sought.? 
How  many  stumbled  at  the  door  of  fame, 
Saw  but  in  dreams  the  tablet  with  their  name.? 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS. 


How  many  learned  the  sacrifice  to  make 
And  to  the  shrine  of  self-denial  take 
(That  shrine  which  sanctifies  giver  and  offerings), 
What  the  heart  sets  above  all  earthly  things  ? 

Some  have  gained  wealth,  some  honors  —  here  a  name 

Linked  with  the  cause  of  Freedom,  when  the  shame 

And  guilt  of  slavery  brooded  o'er  the  land  — 

And  there  the  soldier's  friend,  whose  helping  hand^* 

In  time  of  danger  brought  to  hearts  relief 

From  dread  suspense,  or  turned  to  joy  their  grief. 

Sent  to  the  mother  tidings  of  her  son  — 

When  the  fight  ended  and  the  strife  was  done. 

And  one,  by  science  led,  climbed  the  steep  height 

Where  Kepler  sat;  and  in  the  starry  night 

Enraptured,  heard  the  "  music  of  the  spheres  "  — 

The  anthem,  sounding  through  eternal  years. 

One  with  rare  humor,  filled  with  old-time  lore, 

We  miss  and  mourn  —  departed  Theodore;^* 

He  was  a  chief  among  us;  and  each  page 

Of  our  past  annals  shows  his  counsels  sage. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  113 


Some  in  youth's  morning  heard  their  country  call, 
And  on  her  altar  yielded  up  their  all; 
Saw  the  bright  visions  of  their  early  years 
Expire  and  leave  a  heritage  of  tears. 
Some  have  been  crushed  with  grief,  and  bear  a  load 
Of  speechless  sorrow  down  life's  evening  road; 
And  some  have  done  their  work;  and  others  still 
Are  panting  upward  to  the  enchanted  hill; 
My  Muse!  tread  not  upon  prophetic  ground, 
But  gather  sheaves  in  life's  experience  found. 

What  is  success?  those  who  can  answer  —  tell 

Who've  done  the  best,  and  who  not  quite  so  well. 

Strike  the  true  balance,  tell  just  where  it  lies. 

Say  —  who  have  missed,  and  who  have  won  the  prize. 

Tell  whither  all  the  curves  of  being  tend 

And  where  the  lines  of  good  and  evil  blend. 

These  by-gone  years!  what  wonders  have  been  wrought! 
Since  steam  was  harnessed  and  the  lightning  caught. 
New  Unds  explored,  new  fields  of  golden  grain 


:i4  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Waving  in  sunlight,  crowning  hill  and  plain. 
New  arts  extended,  wealth  unknown  before, 
And  comforts,  spread  before  the  cottage  door, 
And  books,  the  poor  man's  college,  multiply 
And  homes  are  seen,  where  hovels  met  the  eye. 

These  thirty  years!  what  else  hast  thou  to  tell? 

The  work  that  thou  hast  done  —  so  much  —  so  well? 

What  wrongs  been  righted  ?   what  oppressions  crushed  ? 

What  woes  been  healed  ?  what  cries  of  sorrow  hushed  ? 

What  is  thy  record  'mong  the  fleeting  years 

Since  earth's  first-born  were  doomed  to  death  and  tears  ? 

Last  bom  of  time!  whate'er  thy  record  be 

In  other  lands  and  climes,  we  welcome  thee ; 

Land  of  our  fathers,  here  our  eyes  have  seen 

Our  slaves  transformed  to  freemen;  and  between 

The  roar  of  cannon  and  the  beat  of  drum 

Heard  the  deep  voice  of  millions,  cry — We  come. 

We  come,  O  Freedom !   in  the  name  of  all 

The  martyred  heroes  that  obeyed  thy  call, 

In  every  land  since  tyrants  ruled  the  earth 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  115 


And  wrong  prevailed  o'er  justice,  truth  and  worth. 
Henceforth  the  land  is  free;  never  again 
Shall  slavery  triumph;  every  voice  and  pen 
The  wide-world  over  has  declared  its  doom 
And  written  Nevermore !   upon  its  tomb. 
God's  evolution  tends  toward  the  skies, 
From  error's  Hades  up  to  Paradise. 
No  backward  course  the  law  of  progress  runs, 
But  onward  still,  like  planets  round  their  suns; 
Hope  and  take  courage,  for  the  glowing  morn 
Is  bright  with  promise  to  the  souls  unborn. 


I^Btttn 


(Sung  at  the  Semi-Centennial  Services  of  the  First  Universalist  Society, 
Lynn,  April  2q,  1883.) 


Through  years  of  toil  uplit  by  hope, 
Our  fathers  sowed  the  living  seed; 

The  harvest  lay  beyond  their  scope  — 
They  only  knew  the  world's  great  need. 


ii6  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


They  saw  the  crushing  power  of  fear, 
And  in  the  place  of  outworn  creeds 

They  bid  despairing  millions  hear 
The  song  of  love  and  Christian  deeds. 

Praise  be  to  Him,  whose  guiding  hand 
In  troublous  times  their  footsteps  led; 

No  strife  nor  faction  rent  their  band 
When  dangers  thickened  round  their  head. 

They  wisely  planned,  and  builded  well ; 

T  is  ours  to  keep  the  altar-fires ; 
So  may  the  rounded  century  tell, 

The  sons  were  worthy  of  the  sires. 

Grandest  of  all  the  years  that  lie 

Behind  us  in  the  urn  of  time, 
These  fifty  years  have  set  on  high 

The  truth  that  makes  the  age  sublime. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  117 


Man  shall  no  longer  smite  nor  kill 
His  brother  in  the  name  of  God ; 

But  mightier  be  the  Master's  will 
Than  bigot's  torch,  or  tyrant's  rod. 


Sing  peans  loud !  for  nevermore 
Shall  Hate  usurp  the  Gospel's  throne 

But  nations,  peopling  every  shore, 
A  common  brotherhood  shall  own. 


'*^. 


(Read  at  the  Seventieth  Anniversary  of  John  W.  Hutchinson 


Brave,  cheery  friend  of  seventy  years, 
(For  so  time's  dial  tells  the  tale), 
Kind  hearts  like  thine  keep  young  and  hale, 

They  take  no  counsel  of  their  fears. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


For  thou  hast  faith  in  God  and  man; 
Built  on  this  double  arch,  thy  hope 
Spans  the  wide  world,  and  in  its  scope 

Thine  eyes  see  His  eternal  plan. 


Born  of  a  gifted  race,  thy  voice 
With  brothers  twain,  and  sisters  blent, 
Was  heard  across  the  continent. 

And  back  the  answer  came  —  Rejoice. 

From  pen  and  tongue  the  cry  was  hurled, 
And  lightning  bore  it  on. 
And  lo !  the  slaves  great  champion 

Stood  forth,  the  idol  of  the  world! 


Beside  the  noble  Garrison 
Stood  one  serene,  of  classic  mould, 
And  charm  of  speech ;  as  Greece  of  old 

Had  set  within  her  Pantheon. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  119 


With  these,  ye  sang  your  simple  lays; 

Your  theme,  the  equal  rights  of  all ; 

One  brotherhood  of  great  and  small, 
And  One,  who  marks  man's  devious  ways. 

Like  minstrel  band  which  legends  tell, 

Ye  sang  old  Freedom's  key-note  grand; 
"  No  slave  must  tread  our  native  land." 
No  slave,  no  slave,  the  echoes  swell. 


The  poet's  fire  and  music's  charm, 
Ye  summoned  from  their  ancient  throne; 
Where'er  our  eagle  flag  had  flown, 

Oppression  shook,  in  dread  alarm. 


And  some  are  with  us  here  to-day 
Who  knew  the  greeting  England  gave 
When  first  they  crossed  the  stormy  wave, 

And  heard  her  gentle  poet's  lay  — 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


"  O  band  of  young  apostles,  ye 

Who  in  your  glorious  youth  have  come 
To  give  winged  utterance  to  the  dumb 
And  sound  the  trump  of  liberty. 


"Sing  of  the  good  time  coming,  when 
Old  hate  shall  die,  and  passion's  reign, 
And  all  earth's  progeny  of  pain 
Be  banished  the  abodes  of  men. 


"Thrice  welcome  to  the  father-land  — 

One  blood,  one  speech,  one  hope  we  own, 
And  neither  stands  or  falls  alone  — 
Love  gives  to  both  her  great  command." 


Sing,  minstrel  band,  of  coming  peace. 
When  olive  wreaths  shall  crown  the  throne 
Of  kings,  and  mail-clad  warriors  own 

The  spell  that  bids  earth's  tumults  cease. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  121 


The  vision  old  the  Hebrew  saw, 
Whose  lips,  touched  with  the  sacred  fire, 
Foretold  the  suffering  world's  desire. 

The  Master's  beatific  law. 


Old  England  sent  her  welcome  out, 
To  hear  the  band  of  brothers  sing. 
Through  lordly  halls  their  echoes  ring, 

And  thousands  answer,  shout  on  shout. 


The  miner  in  his  living  tomb 
Heard  something  stir  the  upper  air, 
In  thronging  marts  and  gardens  fair, 

Where  robins  sing  and  roses  bloom, 


The  toiling  millions  caught  the  strain. 
And  bore  it  over  land  and  sea. 
And  millions  joined  the  jubilee  — 

The  slave  shall  be  a  man  again. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


And  SO  we  gather  here  to-night 
Around  the  spot  ye  cherish  most, 
From  far  and  near,  your  friends,  a  host, 

Give  token  of  some  mem'ry  bright. 


How  glow  the  scenes  our  eyes  behold! 
'   What  visions  waken  as  we  gaze! 

The  same  sun  with  the  ocean  plays, 
The  old  Rock  gleams  with  sunset's  gold. 

The  hills  still  hear  the  notes  sublime. 
That  Jesse,  bard  and  minstrel,  sung. 
The  grand  old  hymns  the  ages  strung 

Like  jewels  on  the  brow  of  time. 

Long  stand  the  dear  old  home  where  played 
The  children  of  thy  earlier  years. 
Recalling  scenes  of  joy  and  tears, 

Sweet  memories  tinged  with  light  and  shade. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  1^3 


Hail,  old-time  friend,  but  not  farewell! 
As  the  swift  years  shall  come  and  go, 
Borne  on  by  time's  resistless  flow. 

May  age  serene  sweet  mem'ries  tell. 


As  sunset  gilds  the  **  Cottage  Tower" 
And  paints  with  gold  the  Eastern  sky, 
Sure  pledge  the  morrow  shall  not  die, 

May  faith  illume  life's  evening  hour. 


As  setting  sun  at  even  time 
A  new  to-morrow's  sun  fortells. 
So  mayst  thou  hear  life's  evening  bells 

Resound  with  an  immortal  chime. 


124  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


i^Bmn. 


(Sung  at  the  Laying  of  the  Corner-Stone  of  the  High  School  House, 
October,  i8qo.) 


Eternal  Power!  whose  voice  is  heard 
Where'er  man  bends  a  listening  ear, 

Or  where  the  soul  by  conscience  stirred 
Sees  Duty's  narrow  path  more  clear. 


This  corner-stone  we  set  to-day 
Thy  spirit  makes  a  living  thing ; 

Whose  breath  saves  empires  from  decay, — 
Whose  voices  through  the  ages  ring. 


We  have  for  our  foundation  sure 
The  strength  of  the  eternal  hills; 

Fit  type  of  that  which  shall  endure  — 
The  Power  that  moulds  our  human  wills. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  125 


The  temple  that  shall  crown  this  spot 
Hath  an  immortal  inner  shrine, 

And  when  the  builders  are  forgot, 
Earth  hears  its  oracles  divine. 


The  tree  of  knowledge  planted  here 
Forever  lives,  though  nations  die; 

And  where  its  healing  leaves  appear 
Man  sees  a  fairer  land  and  sky. 


To  this  fair  shrine  the  youth  and  maid 
Shall  come  in  life's  sweet  morning  time; 

Shall  hear  the  lyre  that  Orpheus  played. 
And  old  Parnassus  daily  climb. 


Shall  taste  of  that  Pierian  fount, 

Whose  waters  turn  life's  desert  sand 
To  balmy  groves  and  holy  mount, 
.    Whose  top  o'erlooks  the  promised  land. 


[26  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


So  shall  our  sons  high  manhood  reach; 

Our  daughters  nobler  spheres  adorn; 
And  thus  the  Pilgrim  land  shall  teach 

The  countless  nations  yet  unborn. 

(Read  at  the  Reunion  of  the  Young  Men's  Debating  Society,  i8qi.) 


You  've  heard  my  friend's  melodious  verse,  ^^ 
In  rhythmic  numbers  softly  flowing, 
And  heard  his  limpid  prose,  thus  showing 

There's  little  need  I  should  rehearse. 


With  classics  oozing  from  his  lips. 
And  filled  with  various  kinds  of  lore, 
From  Marathon  to  Swampscott's  shore, 

He's  charged  from  head  to  finger  tips 


COMMEMORATIl/E  TOEMS.  127 


With  all  the  reminiscences 
And  all  the  facts  historical, 
And  legends  allegorical, 

E'er  known  about  the  Y.  M.  D's. 


If  you  but  let  him  have  his  way 
He'd  start  behind  the  pyramids 
From  Cheops  down  through  all  his  "  kids 

And  end  —  I  shouldn't  dare  to  say. 

To  quote  again,  a  witty  member, 
He'd  soak  with  barefoot  Socrates, 
And  rip  with  old  Euripides, 

From  New  Year's  Day  till  late  December. 


I'll  tell  my  little  tale  in  rhyme, 
In  contrast  with  his  polished  verse. 
And  rounded  periods,  neat  and  terse, 

Wide  winnowing  all  the  fields  of  time. 


128  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


But  from  this  episode  we'll  turn 
With  old-time  friends  to  spend  an  hour 
From  Memory's  garden  cull  the  flower 

Whose  fragrance  fills  her  sacred  urn. 


Hail,  honored  friend,  our  guest  to-night,  ^^ 
Long  years  have  passed  since  first  we  met, 
And  the  wide  spaces  time  has  set 

Has  bleached  the  hair  and  dimmed  the  sight. 


But  though  the  hair  is  turning  gray, 
(Of  those  who've  any  hair  to  turn) 
We're  not  —  so  far  as  I  can  learn  — 

More  than  two-thirds  as  green  to-day. 


And  though  we  note  some  signs  of  blue. 
As  life's  bright  morning  mounts  to  noon, 
And  see  with  hastening  steps  how  soon 

The  twilight  brings  its  somber  hue. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  129 


Still  faith  survives ;  the  years  will  bring 
The  shadows  that  on  all  must  fall. 
Hope  hears  the  voice  of  duty  call, 

And  faith  and  hope  from  duty  spring. 

But  those  old  days,  how  rich  they  were. 
And  how  we  reveled  in  the  thought 
That  in  life's  battle  to  be  fought 

No  danger  should  our  steps  deter. 


Soon  came  the  time  of  blood  and  tears; 

War's  trumpet  notes  that  Freedom  blew 

Presaging  slavery's  Waterloo, 
Aroused  the  nation's  hopes  and  fears. 

Some  joined  the  ranks,  and  some  with  pen 
And  voice  and  helping  hand  and  heart 
Did  what  they  could,  and  made  a  part 

Of  the  great  host  of  loyal  men. 


13©  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


And  some  among  us  here  to-night 
Recall  his  early  days  and  know 
The  course  he  steered  that  sure  and  slow- 
Led  to  the  goal  of  Truth  and  right. 


They  saw  this  shy  and  thoughtful  boy 
That  walked  slow-paced,  and  as  he  went 
On  some  great  problem  seemed  intent  — 

Had  reservoirs  of  sunny  joy. 


And  grew  more  genial  year  by  year, 
And,  like  Mark  Tapley,  could  be  jolly; 
Believed  that  work  cured  melancholy, 

And  hope,  a  better  guide  than  fear. 


And  as  a  duck  to  water  runs, 
He  ran  or  leaped  to  mathematics 
Celestial  and  terrestrial  statics. 

And  soared  from  planets  on  to  suns. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  ,3, 


Besides  all  this  he  joined  the  *Xlub." 
The  Y.  M.  D.'s  renowned  in  story, 
Then  flourishing-  in  all  its  glory, 

A  sort  of  literary  "  Hub." 


We  miss  familiar  forms  to-night, 
Whose  gifts  and  graces  linger  yet; 
Whose  memory  we  can  ne'er  forget ; 

Whose  voice  still  calls  us  to  the  light. 

Hope  guides  the  world!  the  better  things 
Behind,  around  us  and  beyond, 
Are  ever  man's  eternal  bond, 

That  good  from  seeming  evil  springs. 

God  rules  the  world ;  forever  more 
The  signals  flame  from  Horeb's  Mount; 
And  old  Bethesda's  sacred  fount, 

Is  multiplied  on  every  shore. 


13»  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


in  JJlemotiam, 

(Cyrus  M.  Tracy.  September,  i8qi.) 


In  the  hushed  chamber,  in  the  solemn  night, 
A  child  of  genius  saw  the  vision  break ; 
No  mortal  eye  beheld  the  chariot  take 

His  unbound  spirit  to  the  gates  of  light. 


No  worn-out  watcher  caught  the  parting  word 
Oft  the  dread  ending  of  a  siege  of  pain; 
But,  as  if  wearied,  seemed  to  seek  again 

The  balm  of  sleep,  it  may  be,  slumbering,  heard 


Once  more  the  double  anthem  of  the  sea. 
And  pines'  low  murmuring  that  he  loved  so  well 
That  tinged  his  dreams  with  thoughts  ineffable  - 

Faint  type  of  greater  glories  yet  to  be. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  133 


Perhaps  the  glow  of  that  bright  Autumn  day  — 
His  last  on  earth  — his  unveiled  vision  fills; 
The  maple's  crown  of  glory  on  the  hills  ; 

The  gorgeous  harbinger  of  swift  decay. 


In  that  dread  instant,  ere  the  summons  came, 
Perchance  he  heard  a  strain  unheard  before; 
And  with  illumined  sight,  beheld  the  shore 

The  seer  of  Patmos  saw,  'cross  seas  of  flame, 


Or  dreamed  of  brooks,  soft-sighing  through  the  vale, 
Or  hum  of  bees  that  from  Hymettus'  mount 
Bore  nectar ;  and  beheld  the  healing  fount 

Whose  living  waters  rippled  in  the  gale. 


He  had  the  poet's  gift,  and  on  the  height 

Of  old  Parnassus  heard  the  strains 

That  swept  the  mountains  and  the  storied  plains, 
And  caught  blind  Homer's  song  and  saw  the  light 


134  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


That  Sappho  kindled  on  the  sacred  hill; 
Enchanted,  read  the  songs  of  minstrel  band 
Whose  notes  of  Freedom  rang  from  land  to  land- 
Immortal  bards,  whose  music  lingers  still. 


Untaught  in  schools  and  college  halls,  he  learned 
From  Nature's  page  more  than  the  schoolmen  taught. 
The  song  of  birds  to  him  its  wisdom  brought; 

He  knew  the  hues  that  summer's  sun  had  burned 


Upon  the  cheek  of  every  mountain  flower, 
And  read  the  lessons  ages  had  engraved 
On  curious  stones  that  vanished  oceans  laved, 

Far  back  in  ancient  Time's  primeval  hour. 


His  voice  and  facile  pen  first  told  the  wealth 
That  lies  enshrined  in  woods  and  templed  hills ; 
The  healing  pine  and  living  mountain  rills. 

That  fill  her  priceless  reservoirs  of  health. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  135 


Where  the  tired  sons  of  toil,  at  close  of  day, 
Shall  drink  the  nectar  of  the  balmy  air; 
Where  childhood's  laugh  shall  smooth  the  brow  of  care : 

The  benediction  of  the  young  at  play. 


There  is  no  need  of  shaft  or  monument; 
The  craggy  heights  that  bear  the  sacred  name 
Heard  since  creation's  morn  and  still  the  same 

Shall  be  a  voice  forever  eloquent. 


What  though  he  saw  not  with  another's  eyes, 
How  best  this  boon  might  serve  his  fellow  men; 
May  we  not  reverent  ask  —  What  mortal  ken 

Can  know  the  path  where  others'  duty  lies .? 

The  "  Iliad  of  woes  "  that  bore  him  down 

None  knew,  nor  sought  the  depths  that  he  alone 
Had  pierced.    Shall  not  the  seed  in  sorrow  sown 

Turn  the  dark  cypress  to  a  victor's  crown? 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Fit  time,  that  on  that  bright  autumnal  day, 
When  Summer's  robe  was  still  upon  the  trees, 
As  if  she  stayed  to  hear  his  obsequies  — 

We  in  the  Grove  of  Pines  his  form  did  lay. 


What  thoughts  shall  cluster  round  this  hallowed  spot, 
As  in  the  coming  years  men  seek  his  grave. 
And  read  the  names  his  fertile  fancy  gave  — 

'A  living  record  nevermore  forgot. 


This  shall  be  consecrated  ground;  the  air. 
The  sea  and  wood,  united  requiem  sing; 
Where  every  sight  and  sound  and  living  thing, 

Sends  up  its  incense  of  perpetual  prayer. 


Our  ancient  Essex  has  inscribed  his  name 
High  on  the  rolls  where  Science  sheds  her  light ; 
His  patient  toil  has  made  her  fields  more  bright; 

Adorns  her  page  with  one  more  wreath  of  fame. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  137 


Here  in  our  midst  he  lived,  and  here  he  wrought, 
Strong  in  the  faith  that  Justice  crowns  the  years; 
On  scrolls  unnumbered  yet  his  name  appears. 

And  when  these  fade,  still  live  the  lessons  taught. 

(Read  at  the  Forty-first  Anniversary  of  the  Exploring  Circle,  i8qi.) 


Friends  of  the  Circle,  one  and  forty  years 
Have  passed  since  first  we  met,  a  little  band; 
No  other  era  and  no  other  land 

Has  kindled  hopes  so  high  or  roused  so  many  fears. 


Well  may  the  cry  be  heard,  What  of  the  night ! 

Oh,  watchman  at  the  world's  great  gates? 

What  is  the  good  for  which  man's  spirit  waits, 
Have  not  the  gilded  clouds  foretold  the  morning  light  ? 


138  COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


The  stripes  of  saints,  the  blood  of  martyrs  shed 
On  every  field  that  tyrants  ever  won, 
The  battle  smoke  that  dimmed  old  Freedom's  sun, 

Is  this  no  lesson  to  the  living  from  the  dead? 


Take  courage,  ye  of  little  faith ;  the  world 
Has  lost  no  jot  of  power  since  first  the  earth 
Rolled  on  its  endless  course;  or  since  the  birth 

Of  conscious  sense  of  right  that  Duty's  flag  unfurled. 

That  banner,  sign  of  hope  to  seer  and  slave. 
Oft  torn  to  tatters,  trailing  in  the  dust, 
Was  never  wholly  lost;  nor  lost  man's  trust 

That  soon  or  late  Truth's  ensign  would  in  triumph  wave. 


And  thus  we  work  in  hope,  our  humble  aim 
To  leave  the  world  with  one  more  ray  of  light 
Has  not  perhaps  been  vain  ;  some  memory  bright 

May  long  survive,  and  thrill  at  mention  of  our  name. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  139 


Within  a  few  brief  years  and  half  our  roll 
Have  crossed  the  line  of  that  eternal  shore, 
And  while  we  listen  to  the  waves'  deep  roar, 

Are  there  no  echoes  answering  to  the  waiting  soul  ? 


But  from  this  sombre  retrospect  we  turn ; 

What  lies  behind  us  is  not  all  of  life ; 

Life,  growth,  decay,  the  seeming  strife. 
Of  forces  none  can  measure,  secrets,  none  can  learn, 


Teach  us  there  is  a  voice  that  to  man's  self  reveals 
A  Power  unseen  ''That  makes  for  righteousness." 
And  earth's  mutations,  pain  and  sore  distress 

Are  the  high  priests  at  altars  where  the  spirit  kneels. 

Is  Life  worth  living?   ask  we  not  in  vain 
While  the  full  pulse  of  life  is  beating  still 
That  man's  high  hopes  of  greater  good  fulfill  ? 

These  tell  us  Life  and  Death,  Creation's  law  maintain. 


I40  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Is  Life  worth  living?  ask  the  youth  and  maid 
In  the  first  flush  of  Love's  transcendent  morn, 
Whose  dreams  with  rainbow  hues  the  clouds  adorn, 

And  light  with  suns  and  stars  the  darkness  and  the  shade. 


Ask  the  young  mother  when  her  kindling  eyes 
Catch  the  first  smile  upon  her  first-born's  cheek ; 
Or  the  first  word  his  infant  tongue  can  speak; 

"  Life  is  to  me,"  she  cries,  "  the  gates  of  Paradise." 


Ask  martyrs,  patriots,  prophets,  if  the  life 
They  spent  with  ax  and  dungeon  full  in  sight 
Was  worth  the  living ;  and  from  Wrong's  black  night 

From  cell  and  scaff'old  answer  comes — a  righteous  strife 


That  ends  in  death  has  not  been  born  in  vain- 
The  harvest  has  more  value  than  the  seed; 
And  Justice  for  which  souls  heroic  bleed, 

Cannot  be  measured  in  the  brittle  cup  of  pain. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  141 


Is  life  worth  living  for  the  hearts  that  yearn 
For  home  and  kindred,  friends  of  early  days, 
Upon  whose  path  no  light  of  gladness  plays? 

Have  such  no  treasures  stored  in  Memory's  golden  urn  ? 


Does  not  the  eternal  order  still  remain? 

Nor  sunlight  gild  the  world  ?    No  roses  bloom  ? 

No  balmy  woods,  no  garden's  sweet  perfume  — 
Earth's  incense  to  the  early  and  the  latter  rain? 


No  trumpet  call  at  Duty's  high  behest 
Resounding  clear  above  self's  plaint  of  woe? 
No  voice  of  Conscience  as  it  whispers  low  — 

"  The  life  we  live  for  others,  that  alone  is  blest  ? " 


Friends  of  the  Circle,  let  us  not  forget 
We  journey  on  in  Life's  late  afternoon, 
While  lengthening  shadows  warn  that  all  too  soon 

The  fringed  clouds  foretell  earth's  waning  sun  has  set. 


142  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


But  millions  with  their  faces  to  the  east, 
Await  with  shouts  of  joy  the  coming  morn; 
And  the  red  mantling  blood  their  cheeks  adorn, 

Comes  from  the   nectar   founts,  they  quaff   at  youth's 
rich  feast. 

We  who  have  played  our  part  and  find  the  years 
Move  on  in  narrowing  circles  as  they  fly, 
May  thougthless  utter  our  complaining  cry. 

Forget  the  joys  we  knew,  and  cling  to  all  our  fears. 

Forgetting  all  the  hours  when  our  full  cup 
Overflowed  with  blessings  which  we  counted  not ; 
Full  days  and  years  that  were  our  common  lot 

When  cares  were  light  as  air,  and  trusting  faith  looked  up. 

What  we  call  Life  and  Death  are  only  one; 
Each  an  essential  part  of  God's  great  plan. 
That  finds  completion  in  perfected  man  — 

Though  darkness  dims  the  light,  forever  shines  the  sun. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  143 


The  heedless,  doubting  world  will  one  day  learn 
That  Faith  hath  wings  that  bear  her  far  above 
The  heights  by  Learning  gained ;  and  twin-born  Love, 

The  eye  of  faith,  looks  down,  where  Reason's  altars  burn. 


What  have  the  century's  closing  years  to  show 
To  earth's  unnumbered  millions  yet  to  come. 
Of  Freedom's  hosts  that  marched  with  muffled  drum. 

While  Slavery's  serpent  coiled  to  strike  a  deadly  blow  ? 


What  triumphs  has  man  wrought  along  the  line 
The  spell  of  genius  marked  in  her  bold  flight. 
While  Science  held  her  blazing  torch,  whose  light 

Made  known  new  worlds  where  suns  and  planets  shine  ? 


The  fiery  steeds  that  rush  o'er  paths  of  steel. 

Through  sunny  vales  and  round  the  mountains  wind, 
Where  e'en  the  lordly  eagle  dreads  to  find 

The  power  of  man,  more  than  he  fears  the  thunder's  peal. 


144  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


But  the  great  thought  that  genius  brooded  long 
Ere  Franklin  drew  the  lightning  from  the  skies, 
The  muse  of  Shakespeare  caught  the  truth  that  lies 

So  deep  that  Science  learned  it  from  the  poet's  song. 


And  lo!   beneath  the  waves  the  message  flies 
With  varied  tidings  round  the  waiting  world, 
And  where  the  smoke  from  countless  cabins  curled 

Is  read  the  checkered  page,  with  glad  or  sorrowing  eyes. 


Oh,  age  of  wonders;  greater  marvels  still 
Rise  to  confound  the  wisdom  of  the  wise; 
Man  whispers,  and  around  the  world  there  flies 

The  unseen  thought,  obedient  to  his  lordly  will. 


Friend  talks  with  friend,  the  merchant  princes  send 
Tidings  full  freighted  with  the  nation's  weal; 
Or  words  that  makes  the  thrones  of  empires  reel 

War's  summons,  kings  and  councils  must  attend. 


COMMEMORATiyE   TOEMS.  145 


The  electric  ether  that  all  spaces  fills 
Turns  night  to  day  and  drives  the  loaded  car; 
On  unseen  wings  soars  to  the  farthest  star 

But  does  man's  bidding  as  his  pleasure  wills. 

Thou  grandest  century  since  the  shepherds  heard 
The  song  of  Peace  and  human  brotherhood ; 
Or  when  the  Master  on  the  mountain  stood 

And  uttered  to  the  nations,  Love's  omnific  word. 


Who  taught  the  world  that  naught  but  Justice  stands, 
That  Right  shall  Wrong's  vast  empire  overthrow, 
And  all  that  craft  and  greed  have  builded  slow 

Shall  perish  in  the  blaze  of  His  divine  commands. 


Evil  is  transient,  lives  but  for  a  day; 
Good  is  eternal,  with  its  pillars  deep 
In  the  unmeasured  past;  and  round  it  sweep 

The  raging  tides  of  ill,  —  for  evermore  its  sway. 


146  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


What  though  the  pessimistic  cynic  sneers 

At  Progress,  and  still  sighs  for  good  old  ways ; 
Did  not  ancestral  cynics  waste  their  days 

In  making  known  the  truth  —  they  had  no  eyes  or  ears  ? 


These  cynics  old  were  scorched  in  Homer's  fire, 
Though  sung  in  minor  key  and  lower  strain; 
Prophets  of  ill,  whose  dolorous  refrain 

The  stormy  petrel  shrieks,  prelude  to  tempests  dire. 


But  greater  than  the  triumphs  thou  hast  won, 
O  Native  Land  that  makes  thy  honored  name 
The  light  of  nations  on  the  roll  of  fame  — 

Is  the  great  work  for  woman  thou  has  nobly  done. 

"The  Paradise  of  Woman;"  higher  praise 
Than  this  cannot  be  rendered  thee;  for  thou 
Canst  wear  no  higher  crown  upon  thy  brow, 

Nor  prouder  monument  to  thee  thy  children  raise. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  147 


Not  like  old  Rome  upon  her  seven  hills 
Shalt  thou,  oh  Pilgrim  Land,  the  mighty  rod 
Of  empire  wield;  but  every  land  whose  sod 

Is  wet  with  martyrs'  blood,  the  prophet's  word  fulfills. 


Oh  light  to  guide  the  darkened  nations  thou ! 
Pointing  the  world  to  Freedom  and  to  Truth  — 
That  Justice  only  has  perpetual  youth, 

And  those  alone  survive  who  at  her  altars  bow. 


^m  Higtt  tD  iSlan  is  dome, 

(Sung  at  a  Special  Service  held  January,  1892.) 


New  Light  to  man  has  come — 
Not  with  the  beat  of  drum 
And  battle's  din; 


148  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


But  with  the  song  of  peace 
That  bids  earth's  tumults  cease, 
And  brings  the  glad  release  > 
From  bonds  of  sin. 


The  words  the  Master  spake; 
Unnumbered  echoes  wake, 

In  every  clime. 
Forever  Olive's  mount 
And  old  Bethesda's  fount 
Shall  all  His  deeds  recount, 

Through  endless  time. 

The  good  shall  win  at  last; 
Not  all  man's  evils  past 

Have  quenched  this  light; 
Nor  coming  hosts  of  ill, 
Nor  man's  perverted  will. 
Nor  greed,  nor  cunning  -skill, 

Shall  slay  the  right. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  149 


Then  let  the  mighty  strain 
Roll  on  o'er  sea  and  main 

From  shore  to  shore; 
Till  Peace  her  banners  wave ; 
Till  Freedom  crown  the  slave; 
Wrong's  empire  find  a  grave, 

To  rise  no  more. 


l^gmn 


(Sung  at  the  Dedication  of  the  High  Schoolhouse, 
June  17,  i8q2.) 


Spirit  Divine,  to  Thee 

Thy  children  bend  the  knee. 

And  light  implore. 
This  temple  here  we  raise 
To  Thee,  Ancient  of  Days, 
Guide  of  man's  devious  ways 

To  Wisdom's  door. 


150  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Built  on  this  solid  rock 

Naught  but  the  earthquake's  shock 

Can  overthrow. 
This  shrine  we  consecrate 
The  ages  without  date 
And  monarchs'  mighty  state 

Have  builded  slow. 


Old  Egypt's  pyramid 

In  Time's  gray  morning  hid 

Speaks  here  to-day. 
Beneath  these  massive  walls 
Within  these  pictured  halls, 
The  distant  echo  falls 

From  far  away. 


The  sculptor's  touch  divine, 
The  artist's  bending  line, 
The  centuries  span; 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  151 


On  lofty  rounded  dome 
Sit  ancient  Greece  and  Rome  — 
Where'er  Art  has  her  home 
She  speaks  to  man. 

The  Pilgrim  band  who  lost 
Their  childhood  home  and  crossed 

The  raging  flood, 
With  us  the  anthem  join 
To  Him  whose  wise  design 
Weighs  in  a  balance  fine 

The  martyr's  blood. 

Our  fathers  now  in  dust 

In  faith  kept  this  great  trust ; 

Their  works  survive; 
While  they  in  silence  sleep, 
Their  grateful  children  reap 
The  harvest  that  shall  keep 

The  world  alive. 


COMMEMORATiyE   TOE  MS. 


So  shall  this  structure  grand 
A  hope  to  every  land 

Forever  be; 
And  Knowledge  lead  the  way 
From  Error's  night  to  day, 
Bright  with  the  quenchless  ray 

Of  Liberty. 


(The  Planting  of  Memorial  Trees.) 


On  this  fair  spot  where  Nature  piles 
Her  monuments  on  every  hand, 

Whose  tops  greet  Morning's  earliest  smiles, 
The  votaries  of  the  Forest  stand. 


COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS.  153 


How  grand  are  these  majestic  hills! 

How  sweet  the  vales  that  lie  below! 
How  the  soft  music  of  the  rills 

Blends  with  the  waves'  incessant  flow. 


How  calmly  Gilead's  eye  looks  down 
On  peopled  plains  and  distant  shore; 

Unmoved  at  Ocean's  angry  frown 
Serene  amid  the  billows'  roar. 


Long  ere  the  pyramids  woke  life 
On  ancient  Egypt's  shifting  sand, 

From  out  the  elemental  strife, 
The  mountains  rose  at  God's  command. 


And  stood  like  regal  sentinels 

And  to  the  threat'ning  waters  spake,- 
Come  not  too  nigh,  for  in  these  dells 
.  Shall  man  his  future  dwelling  make.* 


154  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


And  on  these  sun-crowned  heights  be  heard 
The  two -fold  choir  of  land  and  wave ; 

An  anthem  by  the  breezes  stirred, 
Grander  than  rose  from  Memnon's  cave. 


Here  plant  we  the  memorial  tree^® 
To  manly  worth  and  duty  done ; 

Whose  power  the  coming  years  shall  see 
In  triumph  which  their  labor  won. 

Here  shall  the  name  of  Tracy  blend 
With  every  sight  and  every  sound ; 

Where  balmy  pines  their  fragrance  lend 
And  near  the  heights  his  genius  crowned. 

Beneath  these  shades  shall  memory  run 
Through  the  long  years  his  talent  wrought ; 

And  teach  the  lessons  one  by  one 
That  nevermore  can  be  forgot. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  155 


And  here  shall  those  remember  long 
Their  guide,  instructor,  constant  friend ; 

And  round  the  name  of  Chase  shall  throng 
Bright  visions  that  shall  never  end. 


For  youth  has  its  immortal  years 
And  fountains  of  exhaustless  hope; 

And  faith  that  triumphs  over  fears 
And  trusts  in  good's  unmeasured  scope. 


And  as  we  sit  beneath  the  shade 

Our  thoughts  shall  turn  to  him  whose  song 
Beguiled  the  social  hour,  and  made 

The  chain  of  friendship  doubly  strong. 


To  the  long  line  that  bears  the  name 
Of  Newhall,  ever  honored  here, 

Lynn  adds  another  wreath  of  fame  — 
The  genial  friend  and  poet  dear. 


156  COMMEMORATIVE  'POEMS. 


Here  to  this  forest  shrine  shall  come 
The  youth  to  learn  how  deep  the  lore 

Great  Nature  whispers  in  the  hum 
Of  myriad  tongues  on  mount  and  shore. 


Here  the  tired  child  of  toil  shall  tread 
The  restful  paths,  and  breathe  the  air 

Whose  couriers  from  the  mountaifts  sped 
With  healing  for  the  sons  of  care. 


And  hear  an  anthem  grander  far 
Than  ever  from  cathedral  rose 

Since  shepherds  gazed  on  Bethlehem's  star- 
A  harp  played  by  each  wind  that  blows. 


And  generations  yet  unborn 
Shall  visit  this  enchanted  spot 

And  incense  of  the  night  and  morn, 
Shall  hallow  every  scene  and  thought. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  157 


(For  Columbian  Year,  i8q2.) 


Lord  of  the  Harvest;  east  and  west 
The  list'ning  winds  thy  mandate  hear ; 

The  tempest  heeds  thy  high  behest, 
And  plenty  crowns  the  waning  year. 

From  north  and  south  thy  heralds  fly 
That  bear  thy  message  round  the  world: 

And  life  comes  forth  from  air  and  sky, 
Her  flag  on  every  height  unfurled. 

On  hill-side  slope,  in  sunny  vale, 
The  waving  grass  its  beauty  gave 

In  scented  fragrance  to  the  gale. 
While  vines  their  odorous  banners  wave. 


158  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Ten  thousand  fields  of  ripening  corn, 
Welcome  the  sun's  glad  light  and  heat; 

And  breezes  of  the  early  morn 
Play  with  the  golden  sheaves  of  wheat. 


Columbia  throned  among  the  hills 
Her  more  than  two  score  children  greet; 

Far  up  she  hears  the  murm'ring  rills 
That  swell  to  torrents  at  her  feet. 


Whose  waters  bear  to  famished  lands 
Rich  argosies  of  golden  grain, 

Where  mothers  with  uplifted  hands 
Hail  their  preserver  o'er  the  main. 


The  famine  hour  of  Erin's  isle, 
Her  grateful  sons  can  ne'er  forget; 

For  deathless  memories  built  erewhile 
A  shrine  that  in  their  hearts  is  set. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  159 


Mother  of  growing  empires,  thou 
Whose  teeming  millions  own  thy  sway, 

And  to  thy  gentle  sceptre  bow  — 
Lead  on  the  world  to  Freedom's  day! 


From  north  to  south,  from  east  to  west 
Count  up  thy  roll  of  sister  states 

From  Maine's  still  lakes,  where  shadows  rest 
To  California's  golden  gates. 


From  the  great  waters,  where  the  skies 
Are  tinted  with  unnumbered  hues, 

Where  forms  like  birds  of  paradise 
Are  mirrored  in  the  morning  dews  — 


Onward,  where  rolls  the  Oregon, 
And  where  Alaska's  mountains  tower 

Untrodden  since  creation's  dawn  — 
Echo  to  traffic's  mighty  power. 


i6o  COMMEMORATIl^E  TOEMS. 


Great  Native  Land ;  the  world's  last  hope ! 

By  faith  we  read  between  the  lines 
And  see  in  thee  what  boundless  scope 

Thy  destiny  with  man's  entwines. 


Among  her  cities  fair  to  see, 
The  jewel  of  our  eastern  shore, 

Old  Lynn,  may  claim  our  loyalty 
Whose  beauties  spread  the  landscape  o'er. 


We  gather  round  this  festive  board 
And  backward  glance  at  years  gone  by ; 

For  in  their  sacred  urns  are  stored 
Sweet  mem'ries  that  can  never  die. 


And  one  dear  face  we  miss  to-night, 
A  voice  oft  heard  we  hear  no  more^^ 

But  still  his  genial  smile  sheds  light  — 
The  smile  our  laureate  ever  wore. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  i6i 


We  miss  to-night  his  cheering  words 
His  wit  and  wisdom  left  behind, 

That  gladdened  like  the  song  of  birds; 
Immortal  treasures  of  the  mind. 


The  fleeting  years  that  come  and  go 
And  make  of  life's  kaleidoscope 

More  than  a  dream,  an  empty  show 
But  visions  filled  with  faith  and  hope  — 


Are  full  of  promise  to  mankind; 

And  every  cloud  that  hangs  around 
The  low  horizon  of  the  mind 

Is  charged  with  lightning  —  and  the  sound 


Of  conflict,  till  the  skies  are  clear, 
Is  heard  and  ever  shall  be  heard 

Till  ignorance  and  slavish  fear 
Dissolve  as  mists  by  breezes  stirred. 


i62  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


The  whining  pessimist  may  find 
Wisdom  in  things  misunderstood ; 

And  being  deaf,  and  dumb,  and  blind. 
Sees  nothing  right,  or  bright,  or  good. 


The  harvest  waves,  the  birds  still  sing, 
The  glory  of  the  woods  is  ours; 

The  joy  of  every  living  thing 
Fills  up  wide  spaces  of  the  hours. 


Hills  shout  to  greet  the  rising  sun, 
The  echoes  through  the  valleys  roll: 

And  brooklets  laughing  as  they  run 
Are  Nature's  voices  to  the  soul. 


These  speak  of  hope;  of  better  things 
For  earth's  oppressed,  the  tempted,  poor; 

And  every  song  that  Nature  sings 
Tells  man  that  Wrong  cannot  endure. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  163 


Old  friends  and  young,  this  festive  night 
This  word  I  wish  to  leave  with  you: 

E'er  keep  your  faces  to  the  light; 
Have  faith  in  all  things  good  and  true. 

$n  JKemntiam. 

(John  T.  Moulton.  October,  i8q2.) 


Near  friend  and  true  through  many  a  year!*® 

I  lay  this  tribute  on  his  bier 

In  memory  of  a  noble  man 

Whose  life  Was  built  on  Heaven's  high  plan. 


His  thoughts  on  highest  good  intent, 
His  treasure  and  his  service  lent; 
His  well -trained  judgment  understood 
The  lines  that  serve  the  public  good. 


i64  COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


Dear  friend ;  we  see  thy  face  no  more, 
But,  standing  on  life's  boundless  shore, 
Shall  not  the  spirit's  eye  discern 
The  lights  that  o'er  the  billows  burn  ? 


Shall  not  our  ear  catch  the  high  note 
That  o'er  the  gulf  may  sometimes  float  ? 
And  like  the  shell  where  surges  sweep 
Hear  music  far  across  the  deep? 


We  drop  the  burning  tear  for  those 
Crushed  by  this  '*  Iliad  of  woes ; " 
To  heal  the  anguish  of  their  grief 
Needs  other  balm  than  cypress  leaf. 


Angel  of  Hope,  stand  near  the  cloud 
That  wraps  them  in  its  mantling  shroud; 
Till  falls  upon  its  leaden  rim 
The  light  that  shines  on  cherubim. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  ,65 


Angel  of  Patience,  near  them  stay, 
While  sorrow  shuts  the  eye  of  day ; 
Be  with  them  till  the  tempest  makes 
The  golden  hues,  the  rainbow  takes. 


Angel  of  Faith,  make  thy  abode 
With  them,  a  guide  on  every  road ; 
In  joy  or  grief,  till  latest  breath, 
Unshrouds  the  mystery  of  death. 


Strong  Angel  thou,  that  builds  between 
The  gates  we  see  and  those  unseen. 
The  bridge  that  thousands  daily  cross 
To  find  the  gain  they  counted  loss. 


Blest  Memory's  sacred  cup  of  bliss 
Were  poor  exchange  for  those  we  miss, 
If  Faith  hold  not  her  torch  above 
The  fading  forms  of  those  we  love. 


i66  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


«Iolumf)ian  g>onnet. 


Heroic  Seer!  what  visions  dwelt  with  thee 

In  the  long  watches  of  the  anxious  night, 

When  stars  unregistered  gave  dubious  light, 

And  sights  unwonted,  in  the  air  and  sea 

Scared  thy  dull  crew  till  muttered  mutiny 

Threatened  destruction  to  thy  hopes  so  bright. 

Brave  pilot  o'er  the  unknown  deep !  the  flight 

Of  birds,  the  floating  weed,  the  melody 

Of  music  strange,  weird  forms  unseen  before 

On  land  or  wave,  were  signs  thy  prophet  eye 

Beheld ;  till  came  the  cry  —  the  shore !  the  shore  ! 

O,  Brave  Columbus!   continents  will  vie 

To  build  thy  monument,  and  evermore 

Thy  name  shall  stand  with  those  that  cannot  die. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


167 


Jot)n  (g.  fflgaftittier. 


Men  say  thy  earthly  task  is  done, 
And  nations  pause  and  bow  the  head; 

Not  so  —  thy  work  is  just  begun, 
And  in  the  light  thy  life  has  shed 

Where'er  injustice  holds  its  throne, 
The  world  reaps  what  thy  hand  has  sown. 


Undimmed,  this  light  illumes  the  world ; 

Unquenched  the  torch  that  thou  hast  lit; 
The  flag  of  Right,  when  once  unfurled 

Above  the  darkness  of  the  pit 
Must  wave  forever — here  or  there 

It  floats  a  signal  'gainst  despair. 


i68  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Poet  and  seer!  thy  varied  song 
Has  a  full  note  for  every  ear; 

And  as  its  music  swells  along 
The  waiting  nations  pause  to  hear; 

The  mourner's  sacred  sorrow  feels 
A  rock  of  rest,  a  balm  that  heals. 


In  darkened  homes  thy  song  made  glad 
The  millions  that  have  heard  thy  lay; 

Sounding  a  note  of  hope  that  bade 
Their  night  of  trouble  turn  to  day; 

And  henceforth  through  their  lives  there  flowed 
New  impulse  which  thy  muse  bestowed. 


The  slave  holds  up  his  riven  chain, 
And  wonders  at  the  unseen  power 

That  lifts  to  manhood's  throne  again 
The  new-born  child  of  Freedom's  hour ; 

Bids  his  dark  cabin  glow  with  light, 
As  new-found  jewels  greet  his  sight. 


COMMEMORATiyE   TOEMS.  169 


Thy  notes  were  like  the  bugle  call 
Rousing  the  soldier  from  his  sleep; 

The  watchman's  cry  upon  the  wall, 
The  lightning's  flash  near  pitfalls  deep; 

A  bolt  that  clears  the  murky  air, 
The  dread  of  tyrants  everywhere. 

Nature's  high  priest,  whose  altars  span 
The  spaces  of  the  earth  and  sea, 

When  her  dark  voices  speak  to  man 
In  tones  of  doubt  and  mystery  — 

Thy  ministries  invoked  the  light 
That  puts  man's  faithless  fears  to  flight, 


To  thee  great  Nature  was  a  book 
Filled  with  all  wondrous  varied  lore; 

And  every  dell  and  shady  nook 
The  note  of  bird,  and  ocean's  roar, 

Joined  in  their  nine-fold  harmonies, 
And  told  her  ancient  mysteries. 


70  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


And  when  upon  the  mountain  top 
Thine  eye  surveyed  the  glories  shed 

As  clouds  their  misty  mantle  drop 
To  cover  the  majestic  head 

Of  the  great  monarch  of  the  hills — 
What  glory  thy  rapt  vision  fills. 


Thy  lay  was  like  the  song  of  bird 
That  cheered  thy  dear  New  England  home; 

Or  grand,  like  ocean's  anthem  heard, 
When  surges  swell  their  crests  of  foam; 

Thy  hand  has  dropped  the  sylvan  lyre, 
But  left  unquenched  the  poet's  fire. 


Brave  singer  on  the  world's  great  heights! 

Thy  song  shall  echo  evermore! 
Thy  battle  cry  for  human  rights 

Shall  still  be  heard  on  mount  and  shore; 
And  far-oflf  isles  and  savage  coasts 

Hail  thee  a  chief  'mong  Freedom's  hosts. 


COMMEMORATIVE   TOEMS.  17, 


STenngison 


Thou  whose  fine  fingers  swept  the  keys  of  Life 

And  Death,  and  sat  in  sacred  sorrow's  place 
Till  the  first  tempest  in  grief's  stormy  strife 

Had  passed  away,  and  her  angelic  face 
Shone  with  the  radiance  of  a  new-born  grace — 

The  world  is  thy  great  debtor  evermore; 
And  nations  strange — dwellers  on  every  shore  — 

Hail  thee,  high  priest,  whose  ministry  divine 
Hath  altars,  everywhere;  and  every  age  gives  sign 

That  it  doth  know  the  symbols  of  a  tear ; 
But  in  its  crystal  depths,  reflected  clear, 

Man  sees  a  two-fold  image.  Faith  and  Hope; 
And  ''  In  Memoriam,"  read  beneath  the  cope 

Of  the  wide  heavens,  to  sorrowing  hearts  is  dear. 


TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   GERMAN. 


€f)t  JBlinstrers;  (ltnx%t. 

(From  the  German  of  Uhland.) 


There  stood  an  ancient  castle,  tow'ring  in  lofty  pride ; 
Far  o'er  the  land  it  glistened,  e'en  to  the  water's  side; 
Around  were  blooming  gardens,  that  twined  it  like  a 

wreath, 
The  splendors  of  the  rainbow  gleamed  in  the  founts 

beneath. 

Rich  with  the  spoils  of  nations,  a  haughty  king  was  there ; 
He  on  his  throne  was  seated,  and  frowned  with  gloomy 

air; 
For  every  thought  is  terror,  and  every  look  is  rage. 
And  all  his  words  are  scourges ;  he  writes  —  blood  stains 

the  page. 

(172) 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


«73 


There  came  unto  this  castle  a  noble  minstrel  pair, 
One  wearing  golden  ringlets  and  one  with  silvery  hair; 
The  old  man,  harp  before  him,  sat  on  a  gallant  steed, 
The  blooming    boy  beside  him  strode  on  with  lively 
speed. 


Thus  spake  the  aged  minstrel :  "  Now  be  prepared,  my 

boy; 
Our  deepest  songs  remember,  our  loftiest  notes  employ  ; 
With  power  thrill  every  bosom,  whence  pain  and  pleasure 

start, 
For  we  to-day  must  soften  the  monarch's  stony  heart." 


Now  ready  stand  the  minstrels  in  pillared  halls  of  pride ; 
There  sat  enthroned  the  monarch  — the  queen  was  at 

his  side; 
The  king  in  fearful  splendor,  like  crimson  northern  light ; 
The  queen  looked  sweet  and  gentle,  like  the  full  moon 

at  night. 


174  COMMEMORAflVE  TOEMS. 


The  old  man  struck  the  harp  strings,  swept  them  with 

wondrous  skill; 
Of  music  swelling  sweeter,  the  ear  drank  in  its  fill: 
Then  rose  with  heavenly  clearness,  the  youthful  voice 

still  higher, 
The  old   man's  song  low  mingling,  like  distant  spirit 

choir. 


They  sing  of  Love  and  Springtime,  the  golden  age  of 
bliss, 

Of  manly  worth  and  Freedom,  of  Truth  and  Holiness; 

They  sing  of  all  things  dearest,  that  human  hearts  con- 
trol; 

They  sing  of  all  things  lofty  that  lift  the  human  soul. 

From  that  proud,  courtly  circle  all  scorn   is  banished 

now; 
The  king's  defiant  warriors  before  their  Maker  bow; 
In  joy  and  grief  alternate  the  queen's  emotion  flows, 
The  rose  upon  her  bosom  she  to  the  minstrels  throws. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  175 


"Ye  have  enstranged  my  people,  and  tempt  ye  now 
my  wife?" 

The  king  exclaimed  in  anger,  trembling  with  passion's 
strife; 

Swift  through  the  youthful  bosom  he  hurls  his  gleam- 
ing sword. 

Instead  of  songs  upgushing,  life's  crimson  tide  is  poured. 


As  dust  by  whirlwinds  scattered,  all  fly  in  dread  alarm, 
And  dead  the^youth  is  lying  upon  his  master's  arm; 
He  wraps  his  mantle  round  him  and  sets  him  on  his 

horse, 
And  binding  him  uprightly,  departs  beside  the  corse. 


Now  by  the  lofty  gateway,  the  old  man  lingers  near, 
And  there  his  harp   he   seizes,  the  harp   of  all  most 

dear; 
Against  a  marble  pillar  he  breaks  the  sacred  lyre, 
Then  echo  through  the  arches  his  imprecations  dire. 


176  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


**  Woe,*  woe  to  you,  proud  castle !  for  never  more  along 
Your  halls  may  sweetly  echo  the  notes  of  harp  or  song ; 
No !  only  sighs  and  groaning,  and  tread  of  slavish  bands. 
Till  on  your  mouldering  ruins  th'  avenging  spirit  stands. 

**  Woe,  woe  to  you,  sweet  gardens !  in  the  soft  light  of 

May 
This  dead  one's  ghastly  visage  I  show  to  you  to-day; 
That,  gazing,  ye  may  wither,  and  every  spring  be  dry, 
That  petrified  by  ages,  a  desolation  lie! 

"Woe,  woe  to  thee,  base  murderer!  curse  of  the  min- 
strel's name! 
In  vain  be  all  thy  longings  for  bloody  wreaths  of  fame  ; 
Thy  name  be  it  forgotten,  plunged  in  Oblivion's  tide, 
Be  like  death's  warning  rattle  that  on  the  air  hath  died :  " 

The  old  man  has  implored  it,  and   Heaven  has  heard 

the  cry ; 
The  halls  have  met  destruction,  the  walls  in  ruin  lie; 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS.  177 


One  lofty  pillar  only,  tells  of  a  splendor  gone ; 
E'en  this,  already  broken,  may  fall  before  the  dawn. 

Where  once  bloomed  fragrant  gardens,  now  pines  a  land 

of  dearth; 
No  tree  extends  its  shadow,  no  fount  springs  from  the 

earth; 
No  song  the  king's  name  mentions,  nor  legendary  verse ; 
But  buried  and  forgotten  —  this  is  the  minstrel's  curse. 

SCfte  liiDigiott  of  tfte  iSattt). 

(From  the  German  of  Schiller.) 


To  mortals  once  great  Jupiter  thus  spake; 
"Receive  the  world  — yours  it  shall  be; 
Take  the  possession,  and  the  title  take; 
Among  you  share  it  brotherly." 


[78  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


Then  hastening  justly  to  divide  the  goods, 

Busy  the  young  and  old  appear; 
The  farmer  takes  Earth's  fruits;  and  in  the  woods 

The  youthful  noble  hunts  the  deer. 


The  merchant  takes  what  every  store  contains; 

The  abbot,  last  year's  yield  of  wine; 
The  king  shuts  up  the  bridges,  streets  and  lanes, 

And  cries  —  "A  tenth  is  mine." 


At  length,  when  all  was  shared,  drew  nigh 
The  poet;  from  afar  he  came; 

Alas !  there 's  nothing  now  to  meet  his  eye  - 
To  everything  there  is  a  claim. 


"  Ah !  woe  to  me !  and  am  I  then  alone 
Forgotten  ?  I,  who  served  thee  well  ? " 
Thus  loudly  wailing  with  complaining  tone, 
Before  the  mighty  god  he  fell. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  179 


*Mf  in  the  land  of  dreams  thyself  delayed," 
Answered  the  god,  "  then  blame  not  me ; 
Where  wast  thou  when  of  all  things  shares  were  made  ? " 
"  I  was,"  the  poet  said,  "  with  thee. 


"Mine  eye  was  dazzled  by  thy  glorious  sight ; 

Celestial  harmonies  entranced  mine  ear; 
Forgive  the  soul,  which,  giddy  from  thy  light. 

Lost  all  things  on  this  earthly  sphere." 


**The  world  I  gave  away,"  the  god  replied; 
'*  What  wilt  thou  do  ?  for  nothing  now  is  mine ; 
But  if  in  heaven  thou  wishest  to  abide. 
Come  when  thou  wilt  — it  shall  be  thine." 


[8o  COMMEMORATIVE  TOE  MS. 


Hittle  anna. 

(From  the  German  of  Rosalie  Koch.) 


A  blind  old  man,  with  snowy  hair, 
Walks  trembling-  on  from  door  to  door; 

In  mean  and  scanty  garments  clad, 
An  angel  guide  moves  on  before. 

It  is  a  gentle  little  maid, 
Who  on  a  father's  steps  attends; 

So  soft  the  notes  sweet  Anna  sings. 
Each  heart  before  their  magic  bends. 


She  warbles  forth  the  plaintive  song 
Which  tells  the  old  man's  want  and  grief; 

And  many,  moved  to  pity,  drop 
Into  her  hand  the  sought  relief. 


COMMEMORA  TIVE  TOEMS.  1 8 1 


Out  from  a  palace  steps  a  dame, 

Lovely,  and  decked  in  gorgeous  dress, 
Who  kindly  asks  the  little  one, 
"  Do'st  thou  thy  task  with  willingness  ? ' 


Into  the  stately  lady's  face 

Young  Anna's  eyes  beamed  sweetly  mild; 
And,  whispering  softly,  she  replies, 
'*  How  else  could  I  be  a  good  child  ? " 


With  moistened  eyes  the  lady  speaks: 
''  Come  in ;  thou  shalt  my  fortune  share ; 
A  beggar  thou  shalt  be  no  more. 
But  gay  and  costly  garments  wear. 


"  On  silken  cushions  thou  shalt  rest ; 

With  painful  toil  mayst  thou  dispense; 
And  richest  dainties  be  thy  food ; 
,  Thy  childlike  song,  my  recompense.'* 


i82  COMMEMORATIVE  'POEMS. 


"And  my  poor  father?"    "Lovely  child, 
Thy  father  now  is  blind  and  old: 
He  cannot  fill  a  servant's  place, 

And  wait  in  halls  adorned  with  gold. 


"  But  since  thou  lovest  him  so  well, 

Thy  food  with  him  thou  shalt  divide; 
For  we  should  help  the  suffering  poor, 
And  for  their  daily  wants  provide. 


But  though  thou  should 'st  be  dutiful. 
Thy  father's  steps  no  longer  tread; 

And  then  the  world  will  soon  forget 
That  thou  hast  ever  begged  thy  bread." 


Then  glowed  young  Anna's  lovely  face, 
And  proudly  to  the  dame  said  she, 

Can  I  forget  that  I  'm  his  child  ? 
How  canst  thou  think  so  mean  of  me  ? 


COMMEMORATiyE   TOEMS.  183 


"  Much  rather  would  I  longer  seek 

My  plain  and  scanty  bread  and  drink, 
Than  dwell  in  all  your  wealth  and  ease, 
And  blush  whene'er  I  stop  to  think." 

The  lady  pressed  her  to  her  heart, 
And,  weeping  tears  of  joy,  she  smiled 
"Great  thy  temptation  —  thy  reward 
Awaiteth  thee,  thou  lovely  child." 

At  her  command  a  servant  leads 
Within  the  gate  the  beggar  blind ; 

Shows  him  a  chamber  small  and  neat  — 
A  home,  the  child  and  father  find. 


And  Anna  led  him  by  the  hand. 

Till  on  his  eyes  beamed  Heaven's  own  light; 
His  dying  blessing  fell  on  her. 

His  angel  guide  through  life's  dark  night. 


i84  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


The  lady  reared  the  orphan  child, 
And  gave  her  all  a  mother's  care; 

For  filial  love,  devout  and  pure, 
Hath  higher  worth  than  jewels  rare. 


mt  J«itrniBl)t  SMalfe, 

(From  the  German  of  Herwkgh.) 


Alone  I  wander  with  the  ghost  of  night. 

Through  the  wide  silent  streets,  the  haunts  of  men 
An  hour  ago,  and  here  how  many  wept! 

How  many  laughed !   and  now  they  dream  again. 
Pleasure  has  vanished  like  a  perished  flower! 

The  maddest  goblets  now  have  ceased  to  stream! 
And  grief  departed  with  the  sun's  last  rays  — 

The  world  is  weary,  let  it,  let  it  dream! 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  185 


How  all  my  envious  hate  in  fragments  breaks, 

Now  that  the  day's  wild  storm  no  longer  roars; 
The  moon,  her  mild,  conciliatory  light 

E'en  o'er  the  faded  leaves  of  roses  pours; 
Light  as  a  tone,  and  noiseless  as  a  star, 

My  soul  into  these  spaces  swiftly  flies, 
And,  as  into  itself,  it  sinks  in  all. 

And  man's  most  secret  dreams  before  me  rise. 


My  shadow  steals  behind  me  like  a  spy; 

Silent  I  stand  before  a  prison's  gate; 
O  Fatherland,  here  thy  too  faithful  son 

For  love  of  thee  now  mourns  a  bitter  fate. 
He  sleeps  —  and  is  he  conscious  of  his  loss  ? 

Or  is  he  dreaming  of  his  oaken  bowers? 
Or  that  a  victor's  wreath  is  round  his  brow? 

O,  God  of  Freedom,  guard  his  dreaming  hours! 


Before  me  now  a  giant  palace  towers; 
I  look  behind  the  crimson  curtains  where 


i86  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


A  sleeper  lies,  who  fiercely  grasps  his  sword 
With  sinful  and  with  rage-bewildered  air; 

His  visage  gleams  as  gleams  his  shining  crown; 
For  flight,  a  thousand  steeds  await  his  will ; 

He's  dashed  to  earth!  it  opens,  and  he's  lost  — 
O,  God  of  Vengeance,  let  him  slumber  still! 


In  yonder  lowly  cot,  beside  the  brook, 

Virtue  and  hunger  share  a  lowly  bed; 
The  lord  has  given  the  laborer  his  dream, 

A  solace  for  his  waking  hours  of  dread. 
With  every  seed  the  hand  of  Morpheus  sows, 

He  sees  a  golden -bounded  cornfield  gleam; 
His  narrow  dwelling  spreads  throughout  the  world - 

O,  God  of  Want,  still  let  the  poor  man  dream! 

Near  the  last  house,  upon  the  stony  bank. 
Awhile  I  '11  pause,  and  ask  a  blessing  there ; 

I  love  thee  well,  my  child,  though  not  alone; 
Freedom  with  thee  my  heart  shall  ever  share. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  187 


A  pair  of  doves  rock  thee  in  golden  air; 

Naught  but  wild  steeds  upon  my  vision  beam; 
Thou  dream'st  of  butterflies  —  of  vultures  I  — 

O,  God  of  Love,  still  let  my  maiden  dream ! 


Thou  Star,  which  breaks  like  fortune  from  the  clouds! 

Thou,  Night,  with  thy  deep,  silent  blue, 
Let  not  too  early  the  awakened  world 

My  gloomy,  sorrow-stricken  visage  view! 
On  tears  the  earliest  sunbeam  gently  falls! 

Freedom  must  vanish  with  the  coming  dawn ; 
For  tyrants  then  again  will  whet  the  steel  — 

O,  God  of  Dreams,  still  let  us  all  dream  on! 


i88  COMMEMORATiyE  TOEMS. 


S:i)e  Mi\%t  ittan  anir  ti)e  jFool 

(From  the  German  of  Nicolai.) 


A  wise  mun  saw  with  heartfelt  joy  his  name 
Borne  through  the  world  upon  the  wings  of  Fame, 
Which  prophesied  of  immortality; 
"  I  am  the  Phoenix  of  my  age;  like  me 
But  few  have  ever  lived  in  any  land, 
And  through  the  coming  ages  I  shall  stand 
A  star  outshining  all  the  world  has  known." 
Thus  spake  the  sage,  but  to  himself  alone ; 
For  outwardly  he  wore  a  modest  air; 
So  much  he  seemed  to  have  this  virtue  rare, 
That  he  refused  all  praise  as  undeserved. 
And   said  that  fame   from  truth's  straight  line   had 
swerved. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS.  189 


One  day  this  oracle  a  mad-house  sought; 

What,  tell  me,  can  a  wise  man  here  be  taught  ? 

What?  Wisdom!  patient  wait  until  the  end 

And  see  instruction  on  her  steps  attend. 

One  of  the  fools  approached  and  thus  began, 

"Kneel  down  —  I'll  teach  thee  who  I  am!  a  man, 

The  wisest  that  has  lived  in  any  land. 

Thou  seest  bodily  before  thee  stand; 

I  am  the  Phoenix  of  the  present  day, 

And  few  among  the  ancients  bore  such  sway; 

On  future  ages  e'en  I  dart  the  flame. 

The  radiant  herald  of  my  deathless  fame." 

A  smile  scarce  seen  passed  o'er  the  wise  man's  face, 

And  to  himself  he  sighed.    "  In  this  dread  place 

Is  this  poor  fool  confined  for  speaking  nought 

But  word  for  word,  what  mine  own  heart  has  thought. 

"  What  then !  and  do  we  both  lack  common  sense  ? 
1  almost  think  't  is  true.    The  difference 
Is  this !  Fools  tell  their  thoughts,  whereas  the  wise 
In  silence  think :  here  the  distinction  lies." 


I90  COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


ilauta  at  ^rager. 

(From  the  German  of  Matthesson.) 


Lo !  Laura  prays.    The  harps  of  angels  blending, 
God's  sweet  peace  comes  down  her  heart  to  heal 

Like  incense  cloud  from  Abel's  gift  ascending, 
Her  sighs  to  heaven  appeal. 


See  how  she  kneels,  her  soul  in  prayer  outpouring, 
Beauteous  as  Raphael  paints  the  Man  divine! 

Celestial  splendors  seem  around  her  soaring. 
Such  as  on  angels  shine. 


In  the  bright  presence  of  the  King  immortal. 
Her  griefs  expire,  and  with  enraptured  sight. 

She  sees  the  lofty  palms  through  Heaven's  portal, 
And  there,  her  crown  of  light. 


COMMEMORATIVE  TOEMS. 


[91 


Wrapped  in  devotion,  and  on  God  relying, 
Throbs  her  young  heart  of  angel  purity ; 

Gazing  on  her,  our  spirits  upward  flying, 
That  better  land  we  see. 


NOTES . 


Note  1.  The  modern  ocean  steamship  is  one  of  the  most  wonderful  crea- 
tions of  the  present  age.  The  progress  of  naval  architecture  kept  pace  along 
all  other  lines,  and  in  the  discussion  incident  to  this  question,  fears  were 
expressed  that  if  the  length  of  these  ocean  steamships  was  greatly  increased, 
the  danger  of  being  strained  or  "  broken  at  the  waist"  —  in  nautical  phrase  — 
would  be  well  nigh  inevitable  if  they  attempted  to  make  head  against  the  high 
waves  of  an  Atlantic  storm.  The  experiment  was  made,  and  the  fears  proved 
groundless. 

Note  2.  In  the  '■''Sketches  of  Lynn,''^  the  author  has  set  forth  many  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  shoemaker's  shop  of  the  olden  time.  The  character  of  the 
men  found  in  these  shops  varied  of  course,  as  hereditary  traits  or  the  circum- 
stances of  life  determined.  In  some  of  them  a  "  crew  "  would  be  made  up  of 
sober-minded  citizens  and  their  sons,  many  of  whom  were  church  members. 
In  such  shops,  the  conversation  and  songs  bore  the  stamp  of  their  current 
thoughts.  In  other  shops,  opposite  characteristics  were  noted.  A  jovial  crew, 
chiefly  young  men,  would  engage  in  conversation  or  sing  songs  that  had  no 
social  or  religious  bearing. 

The  size  of  these  shops  varied  considerably,  from  some  —  few  in  number — 
small  enough  to  be  called  a  "  salt  box,"  some  ten  feet  square,  to  a  few  fourteen 
feet,  having  a  good-sized  chamber.  In  winter,  some  of  the  "  crew  "  might  have 
been  seen  at  work  long  before  daylight,  by  the  aid  of  a  single  tallow  candle  — 
but  more  commonly  two  —  or  Japan  lamp  ;  and  at  night,  as  late  as  ten  or  later. 
The  "  scraps  "  were  pieces  of  leather  or  other  refuse,  trimmed  off  in  making  the 
shoe.  These  made  part  of  the  fuel  in  winter,  and  the  odor  from  these  burning 
scraps  was  somewhat  peculiar.  The  "  tacks  "  used  were  mostly  of  small  size, 
and  easily  lost  in  the  litter  on  the  floor.  Various  abbreviations  and  local  phrases, 
well  understood  by  those  who  talked  and  listened,  were  in  common  use.  Thus 
New  England  rum  —in  distinction  from  the  imported  article  — was  often  con- 
tracted to  New. 

a98) 


194  NOTES. 

Note  3.  The  struggles  of  George  Stevenson  to  introduce  the  locomo- 
tive into  England  is  a  chapter  of  history  that  furnishes  a  profitable  subject  for 
the  student  of  social  science.  Among  other  notions,  it  was  urged,  these  "fire 
horses  "  —  as  the  locomotives  were  called —  would  make  farming  impossible  by 
frightening  horses  and  cattle  used  upon  the  farm.  The  Eastern  Railroad— now 
the  Boston  &  Maine— was  opened  in  1838. 

Note  4.  But  the  marvels  of  steam  as  a  motive  power,  and  the  revolution 
it  worked  in  the  social  life  of  the  people,  were  exceeded  by  the  greater  wonders 
of  electricity.  The  establishment  of  the  electrical  works  in  Lynn,  in  1882,  made 
our  city  the  grand  center  in  the  manufacture  of  electrical  machinery  and 
appliances. 

Note  5.  The  Free  Public  Forest.  The  common  lands  of  Lynn  were 
divided  among  the  inhabitants  in  the  ratio  of  their  holdings  of  enclosed  grounds. 
But  the  restrictions  in  this  allotment  kept  the  wood-lands  in  their  primitive  con- 
ditions as  to  occupation,  and  practically  as  to  ownership,  till  1881.  In  this  year, 
Cyrus  M.  Tracy  organized  a  body  called  the  Trustees  of  the  Free  Public 
Forest  of  Lynn.  The  purpose  was  to  acquire  by  gifts  and  purchase  wood  lots 
in  Ljmn  Commons,  as  anciently  called,  and  hold  in  trust  for  the  enjoyment  of 
the  people  of  Lynn  forever.  Under  this  voluntary  plan,  about  150  acres  were 
obtained  in  different  parts  of  the  forest.  When  the  Water  Board,  in  1888,  en- 
tered and  purchased  many  acres  in  Blood's  Swamp,  and  built  basins  and  roads 
around  them,  a  new  value  was  given  to  woodland,  which  hitherto  had  been 
esteemed  worth  little  except  for  the  wood  that  might  be  cut  from  it.  In  conse- 
quence, sales  to  the  Trustees  stopped.  In  1889,  the  Park  Commission,  with  its 
power  of  taking  by  the  right  of  eminent  domain,  continued  the  work  begun  by 
Mr.  Tracy  and  his  associates. 

Co-operating  with  the  Water  Board,  the  Commissioners  secured  all  tlie 
territory  lying  between  Walden  Pond  and  Pine  Hill,  and  between  Lynnfield 
Street  and  Walnut  Street  that  lies  within  the  boundaries  of  Lynn.  The  Water 
Board  is  authorized  to  purchase  the  woodland  in  Ox  Pasture  on  the  water-shed 
of  the  ponds  to  the  extent  of  about  four  hundred  acres.  The  total  public  hold- 
ing will  amount  to  about  two  thousand  acres. 

The  conception  of  a  plan  for  a  free  public  forest  belongs  to  Cyrus  M. 
Tracy.  Those  who  followed  were  guided  by  his  spirit  and  example.  To 
record  his  zeal,  ability  and  faithfulness  in  the  task  he  undertook,  is  a  feeble  and 
inadequate  recognition  of  our  debt  to  him. 

Note  6.  Jesse  and  Mary  Hutchinson  were  parents  of  the  celebrated 
Hutchinson  family,  which  numbered  thirteen  members  —  eleven  sons  and  two 


NOTES. 


'95 


daughters  —  nearly  all  of  whom  were  noted  for  their  musical  talents.  Judson, 
John  and  Asa,  and  the  youngest  sister  Abby,  comprised  the  band  of  singers 
whose  fame  reached  other  lands.  Jesse,  one  of  the  sons,  built  a  cottage  near 
the  base  of  the  famed  High  Rock,  and  in  after  years  this  cottage  and  its  sur- 
roundings were  the  center  of  attraction  to  visitors  from  far  and  near. 

Note  7.  On  the  26th  of  November,  1889,  occurred  by  far  the  most  de- 
structive fire  Lynn  has  ever  known.  It  originated  about  noon  in  the  rear  of  a 
wooden  shoe  factory,  near  Central  Square,  and  raged  five  hours  before  the  fire 
department,  aided  by  thirteen  steamers  from  the  adjoining  cities  and  towns, 
checked  its  progress.  The  fire  burned  over  twenty-five  acres,  destroying  three 
hundred  and  thirty-two  buildings,  whose  assessed  value  was  $1,010,000.  Two 
years  later,  in  1892,  the  assessed  value  of  the  new  buildings  in  the  burnt  district 
was  $1,575,000.  A  new  Lynn  may  be  said  to  date  from  this  period.  During 
the  years  1891  and  1892,  1359  new  buildings  were  erected  in  the  city. 

Note  8.  The  advent  of  Kossuth,  to  this  country  in  1851,  was  one  ot  the 
chief  events  of  that  year.  The  marvelous  eloquence  of  this  Hungarian  exile 
aroused  the  people  to  a  high  pitch  of  enthusiasm  wherever  he  appeared.  The 
writer  was  one  of  a  great  audience  that  listened  to  his  speech  in  Lyceum  Hall. 

Note  9.  Reference  is  here  made  to  an  ancient  battle  between  the  Medes 
and  Lydians— 601  B.C.— made  famous  by  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  which  occurred 
on  this  day.  Both  armies  frightened  by  the  unexpected  phenomenon,  fled  in 
terror  from  the  field  of  conflict. 

'Note  10.  Our  Oracle.  This  name  was  given  to  a  manuscript  paper  read 
monthly  at  the  meetings  of  an  organization  known  as  the  Young  Men's  Debat- 
ing Society,  which  had  an  existence  in  our  city  from  1852  to  1858.  Its  editor 
and  chief  contributor  during  a  large  part  of  this  time  was  Nathaniel  J. 
HoLDEN— now  Judge  Holden,  of  Salem,  Mass.— one  of  the  original  members, 
its  first  president  and  first  editor. 

Note  11.  Skating.  About  1858,  a  new  interest  was  awakened  in  this 
winter  sport  in  this  section  ;  and  what  was  formerly  chiefly  a  boyish  amusement 
became  a  pastime  for  persons  of  all  ages,  and  both  sexes. 

Note  12.  Three  prominent  members  of  an  organization  known  as  the 
Silsbee  Street  Debating  Society.  A  full  history  of  this  Society  is  given  in  the 
■Wiikvox^^'''' Sketches  of  Lynn.^^ 


196  NOTES. 

Note  13.  Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison,  son  of  the  renowned  Wm.  L.  Garri- 
son. The  father  sometimes  attended  the  meetings  of  the  society  of  which  his 
son  was  a  member,  and,  by  invitation,  took  part  in  the  discussions — once,  at 
least,  within  the  recollection  of  the  writer. 

Note  14.  Gardiner  Tufts,  whose  official  position  during  the  Civil 
War,  enabled  him  to  be  of  great  service  to  the  soldiers,  and  especially  to  those 
from  Massachusetts.  He  had  admirable  qualifications  for  the  delicate  and  re- 
sponsible work  assigned  him,  in  ministering  to  the  wants  of  the  wounded  sol- 
diers, and  in  answering  the  numerous  inquiries  of  relatives  and  friends.  His 
State  has  honored  him  with  a  statue  for  his  memorable  service. 

Note  15.  Theodore  Att will,  one  of  the  founders  of  this  Society,  and 
a  constant  contributor  to  the  columns  of  the '"'' Oracle  ;  "  his  .articles  being  marked 
by  originality  and  a  keen  sense  of  humor. 

Note  16.  Prof.  Edward  Johnson,  one  of  the  founders  of  this  Society, 
a  scholarly  gentleman  of  fine  literary  taste.  He  delivered  the  introductory 
poem  at  the  reunion  of  1881,  and  also  at  that  held  ten  years  later. 

Note  17.  James  Edward  Oliver,  bom  in  Lynn,  Mass.,  1829,  an  em- 
inent mathematician  and  professor  of  mathematics  in  Cornell  University, 
Ithaca,  New  York,  since  1870.  In  this  department,  he  stands  among  the  fore- 
most our  country  has  produced.  His  visit  to  the  city  of  his  birth,  in  1891,  was 
made  the  occasion  of  the  reunion  of  the  members  of  the  Society. 

Note  18.  The  name  of  Cyrus  M.  Tracy  will  long  be  remembered  in  the 
annals  of  Lynn.  His  versatility  of  talent  enabled  him  to  do  many  things  well, 
and  with  great  ease.  He  had*  rare  literary  gifts,  and  as  a  writer,  whether  of 
prose  or  verse,  he  occupied  a  high  rank  among  the  writers  of  our  city.  Of 
poetry,  Mr.  Tracy  has  published  but  little  ;  but  that  little  bears  the  marks  of 
genius.  But  the  chief  significance  of  his  work  is  the  service  he  has  rendered  in 
awakening  the  public  mind  to  the  value  of  our  forest  domain.     {See  Note  3.) 

Henry  L.  Chase,  a  teacher  of  high  rank  in  his  profession,  for  twenty-six 
years  principal  of  one  of  the  chief  grammar  schools  of  the  city. 

Note  19.  J.  Warren  Newhall,  a  well-known  writer,  whose  contribu- 
tions in  verse,  upon  festive  occasions,  were  frequent  through  a  period  of  more 
than  thirty  years. 


NOTES.  197 

Note  20.  John  T.  Moulton  was  one  of  the  best  known  citizens  of 
Lynn.  The  following  facts,  relating  to  his  life  and  services,  are  taken  from  an 
obituary  notice  that  appeared  in  the  columns  of  a  city  paper  : 

"  His  integrity,  prudence  and  promptness  made  his  services  much  in 
requisition  for  positions  of  public  trust.  He  sei-ved  fifteen  years  as  Trustee  of 
the  Public  Library,  being  also  Treasurer  of  the  Board.  He  was  likewise  Treas- 
urer of  the  fraternities  of  Associated  Charities,  of  the  Boston  Street  Methodist 
Society,  and  of  the  Trustees  of  the  Lynn  Free  Public  Forest. 

**  He  was  a  member  of  the  Exploring  Circle,  the  New  England  Historical 
and  Genealogical  Society,  and  likewise  the  Methodist  Historical  Society. 

'•  The  people  of  Lynn  are  greatly  indebted  to  him  for  the  collection  and 
preservation  of  much  that  is  useful  as  well  as  interesting  in  her  history.  He 
has  prepared  copies  of  the  earliest  existing  town  records,  and  had  them  pubhshed 
in  the  Historical  Collections  of  the  Essex  Institute.  He  has  also  collected  and 
published  the  inscriptions  from  the  oldest  graveyards  of  Lynn,  Lynnfield  and 
Saugus,  and  has  prepared  genealogies  of  the  Moulton  and  Mansfield  families. 
He,  in  connection  with  Isaac  O.  Guild,  was  at  the  expense  of  erecting  a  suitable 
stone  to  mark  the  resting-place  of  "Moll  Pitcher,"  the  renowned  fortune-teller 
of  Lynn. 

"  Mr.  Moulton,  it  is  agreeable  to  add,  was  always  ready  to  contribute  from 
his  abundant  store  any  information  he  might  possess  regarding  our  early  fam- 
ilies, and  the  characteristics  and  doings  of  our  fathers.  And  all  the  community 
will  mourn  the  loss  of  one  so  worthy." 


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